What Is Inevitable
by kytyngurl2
Summary: After harsh words and a long period of time... is there any way you can really come home again? Raph and his family struggle to find out. AU 2007 Movie branchaway.
1. On The Roof

A/N: Please enjoy!

--

This was a horrible idea.

Raphael carefully lowered himself onto the slimy filthy brickwork of the ledge without a second thought. It was disgusting, yes... tainted and deserving of not only no contact, but immediate destruction too. Much like the nearly-condemmed tenement that was beneath it. So of course he liked it, it suited him. The same way the bruised-orange sky and the desperate screams of distant sirens reflected what he was so much better than any mere mirror could.

He had told that startled and terribly ernest kid several days ago now that he could be found up on this very rooftop if someone wished to find him. Hell, he even listed a date and a very specific range of time. He did this even as the child-- What was her name? Shadow? He idly wondered how in the world Casey had managed to convince April to go with _that_ name. Heck, where did all that blond hair come from, come to think of it?

His mind was wandering again. He shook his head and tried to keep his hands from shaking. It wouldn't be good if _they_ saw it. It wasn't how he wanted it--

Raph shook his head again, this time enough force to nearly make himself ill, and quickly cleared his mind with ease that took ten years of practice and and no small amount of heavy drinking. Then, carefully, he crept his mental way back to where he last left his train of thought idling and smoking. Yeah, even as that Shadow kid had looked at him like he was the second freakin' coming of Christ or something and he promised to be here-- just out of curiosity, mind you-- he had been planning to not show up. The mere thought of it--

It had been ten years.

That was a very long time, even when your last words with your family didn't include screaming, insults, rejection, and the promise-- deep in your heart-- to never face them again. Hell, he wasn't even going to look at this damn city on a map-- if it wasn't for that criminal asshole and his city-hopping-- well, it would have worked too. He had just come here to catch the jerk and stop him once and for all. That's what he _did,_ that's what he had been doing for most of these past few years. He didn't come back here to open a can of worms and then stick his face in it and breathe in deeply. He was going to catch the guy at long last and then _book it_.

...So why was he here?

---

_The little girl-- didn't look much older than eight, a dark blue backpack decorated with white-out doodles dangling limply off one shoulder as she walked down the street-- caught his eye as he jumped roof to roof. He didn't have a good lead on his guy just yet, and was patroling the city just in case. He knew his man, knew he wouldn't come up here and stay silent and good. Creeps like him never did, and their bosses most definately would not allow it anyways._

_It was nearing twilight now, and that was his perfect time to strike... that strange interlude between dangerous night and cheerful day._

_Apparently it was a couple of sickos' favorite time to play as well, which Raphael noticed as the child down on the street suddenly let out a startled scream, throwing her bag at them and attempting, a terrified look on her young face, to move away from her attackers. Distantly, he noticed that rather than just -run- in utter panic, like a normal kid would have done, she kept herself in something of a ready stance, the corner of her eye on the two men behind her._

_Not that it helped her much, they had about 150 pounds apiece on the blonde elementary schooler, and seemed ready to use that fact to their violent advantage, so Raph used his own advantage-- his two fists right under their chins. There was a satisfying cracking noise, and then-- boom-- two more assholes that weren't going to be chasing anyone's dear little daughters around. Raph had smiled grimly then, satisified with a job well done and ready to get back on his rounds. He didn't like being on the streets, made him nervous. Especially in this town, the one he left so long ago._

_"T-- turtle..." the kid was staring him, mouth slightly open and blue eyes wider than dinner plates. Shit, how had she noticed? He had a pretty good disguise on, you had to look very carefully to even begin to notice something was... unusual... with him._

_Plus, yeah, The last thing he had wanted was the wrong kind of attention. That sort of thing had worried him throughout most of his life, ever since he discovered what a freak he was and how interested in freaks the humans were. For that way layed horrible experiments, operating tables, and scientists. The stuff Mikey used to see on his old Sci Fi movies and freak out about. As for now..._

_Well, the last thing he wanted after the last thing he wanted was for -them- to find him. Not now, not after years of hiding and carefulness and so much suffering..._

_Luck, however, wasn't on his side._

_Startingly, a slow smile spread upon the newly-rescued's face, in spite of the fact that a mere moment ago she was shouting and running for her life. Despite the fact that apparently she had figured out her savior wasn't human too, come to think of it. Instead the kid's smile widened even further, a look of pure surprise-- and delight-- seeping onto her face. "You... you're -him- aren't you? The one who's been gone?" She stepped forward, a tiny hand reaching out..._

_Raphael, however, was taking a step back and preparing to leap back onto the nice quiet child-free roofways while he was at it. He didn't know what was up with this kid, but he wasn't exactly ready to start up a conversation about whatever bug just crawled up her non-existant skirt. He'd make sure she'd get to the nearest police-station a soon as possible, away from the creepos, and that was it._

_"Are you 'Raphael'? My name is Shadow... Shadow Jones. I think you know my Daddy..."_

_And with that, his world once more spun around with dizzing vertigo-- crashing into his life like a semi-truck on it's merry freaking way. It was like that sometimes. Well, most the time. And somehow, despite every nerve screaming at him to run the hell away and save himself from what would inevitably be some more pain... he stopped, and turned around to face her._

---

He should run. This was such a mistake...

It wasn't that he was scared that they were still mad and severely disapointed with him-- not that he blamed them, of course-- it was more than that. A lot more. Them being pissed about what had happened before he left... or his long absence... he could deal with those. Eventually. Somehow.

...What he dreaded was them _not_ being mad. Tears, joy, forgiveness-- he craved those things more than anything else in the world and they scared him shitless too. For those things... those would mean that he just wasted a decade of his life. That he had spent that time utterly alone, suffering and without his family for no damn good reason.

He was still such a coward.

Then he heard the faint noise behind him-- after years of living and fighting by himself in that distant city, he had gotten sharp-- damn sharp, like a razor's edge-- the kind that would probably still give you a nasty infection if you touched it despite it's apparent clean state.

Thus, even before he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye-- that disturbingly familiar glimpse of green, brown, blue, and gleaming silver-- Raph knew _he_ was here. Before the rooftop vibrated ever so slightly, he heard the faint whoosh of displaced air and the faint chime of rattling metal and knew that not only did he have his expected and dreaded visitor, but that he knew exactly who it was too. Some things, it seemed, couldn't be forgotten after so long, even when you tried really _really_ hard.

The figure warily settled next to him on the dark ledge, sitting down the same as Raphel was. Nothing was said-- what could be said, after so many years? But Raph found himself turning all the same-- his heart in his throat and dancing that stupid line dance he saw on a shop window TV just before he left the city he was in before-- to face his oldest brother.

"Leo..."


	2. Reunion

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone for their kind reviews and recs... and Aubretia Lycania for her help beta-ing, brainstorming, and all the carrots! This is easily the most emotional single-writer project I've worked on, and I really hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I've enjoyed working on it. I'll do my best to keep the updates steady, as the entire fic is pretty much plotted and outlined out now. Have fun!

--

If he were a stronger person-- the kind of guy he always tried to be, the one Donnie, Mikey, and their father seemed to think he was despite his many failures-- maybe then Leonardo would have been able to look at Raph with no surprise at all. Then maybe he would have been thinking _'I always knew he was fine and that he'd return, at the bottom of my heart._' instead of just reeling.

But he wasn't that sort of person. Not really.

Leo settled down, slowly and carefully, next to his younger brother-- afraid, even now with Raphael in front of him once more-- that somehow the heat of his shock would lift and take this hazy warped mirage of lost fraternity with it as it left.

Roughly, almost painfully, Raph breathed his name... then both fell into uneasy silence, tangled and trapped in a moment ten years in the waiting. Leo's eyes were glued onto his sibling's face, trying to memorize it again. Following the twisted paths of jagged scars and near-wrinkles, trying to see if somewhere down the maze of time his young brother still waited for him.

Raph himself barely seemed able to look in his direction; his eyes were focused at some point in the distance-- faintly luminescent in the neon-stained sky of nighttime New York City.

Leo wasn't sure if this was the best moment of his still fairly young life or the worst... It was strange, it was quiet, it was awkward... but there his little brother was, impossibly in his presence again.

And that was wonderful.

Behind that thought, however, was a horror. This time-- this _now_-- it felt so special and fragile. But at the same time, it was nothing more than sitting next to his brother on a disgusting roof-top in the bad part of town. He sat next to his younger brothers Mikey and Donnie all the time-- it was never any big deal _then_.

A decade made all the difference.

...Part of him was livid at this. Angry about this difference, one the rest of his family never even thought to inflict upon him. It had been a long long time. A long time filled with worry, fear, and no small amount of anger. They were certain Raphael was dead; they had just been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely, his family had thought, there would one day be a 'special bulletin' and then a media circus of spectacular proportions... complete with not only with three rings, but with a 'freakish' dead mutant turtle carcass to boot. They hadn't deserved that. Not even after what had happened.

None of them had even gotten the chance to apologize.

Most of him, however, was drinking in the sight of Raph-- as strangely sinewy and jittery as he was-- like a dying man in the desert who somehow against all expectation and reality received an actual bottle of water and was now chugging it down. It made him feel ill, yes-- and too much at once was most definitely a bad idea. But he didn't care.

The silence between them stretched lazily and grew but even still Leonardo didn't know what to say. Raph looked so different now, somehow both hard and helpless, his entire frame faintly shaking... and Leo was scared. So much depended on this moment and on what he said...

And all he wanted to do was grab onto his brother and give him a huge bear hug-- the kind Casey was apt to give to whoever was around on one of his drunker evenings-- and never let go. It was his _brother_. His brother was here, alive, and seemed to be... mostly... okay. He had never even dared dream this day would come, none of them had. Not since seven years ago.

But even back then, that sort of physical contact wouldn't have gone over well.

"Raph."

It took all his strength to say that one simple word-- but then his brother looked at him, eyes frightened and hopeful, and Leo was able to find his confidence again. The nerve and delicate skill that had helped him so many times against the likes of the Foot and Karai. If Raphael wasn't going to talk, then -he- would need to. And if that was what it would take to make this moment last longer, then so be it.

--

_"--tell you guys that." their good friend of many years, April, finished breathlessly. "None of you guys talked with Shadow, right?" She waited for their jerky nods then smiled. "How many other mutant turtles could there be in the world, then?"_

_Leo watched as Mikey exhaled, the tension of many years leaving his youngest brother's frame, replaced by a new and different sort of a stress. A fresh fear. "It... it was Raph."_

_Donnie looked sharply at April. "She's sure? I mean... I'm not saying your daughter isn't bright or anything, but this is sort of an unbelievable allegation..."_

_April frowned at him. "She knows what you guys look like. And she knows what humans look like. She can tell." She sighed, resting a hand on her right hip. "It's not like Shadow isn't familiar with what sorts of disguises you put on, either. H-- Raphael-- doesn't seem to have changed style much. It was obvious." She looked over at Leo's oldest younger brother, expression wary._

_"What was she doing out, anyways?" Don didn't seem to care about the look everyone was giving him. "The situation you are describing seems a little--"_

_She sighed, loudly. "She-- uh." April looked away, eyes briefly settling on Mikey. "Hookie. She was supposed to be at her school. Decided it was boring."_

_Mikey seemed to understand, and chuckled. "Kiddo's not one for detention." Then, abruptly, the smile escaped from his face, replaced by something a lot more raw. "If-- I mean, -since- he's... he's here. We should..."_

_"I'll handle it." Leonardo rested a hand on his youngest brother's shoulder, noting with concern the way Mike was worrying his lower lip. "I-- Me and Raph-- it should be me. I can talk to him. About this."_

_"Leo..."_

_Donnie was studying him, a hand still resting on their beat-up kitchen table. "Are you sure?"_

_He nodded in reply-- shoving away the questions, the ones that shouted 'Why? Why now?!' to the back of his mind, where they belonged. "As sure as I'm going to be, bro. I can do this... I will do this..."_

_He smiled, a smile at only grew in confidence as April Jones beamed at him, widely, Mikey gave him a relieved and hopeful look, and Donnie's eyes shuttered, acceptance seeping onto his face._

_Leo and Raph-- they had always had this strange bond. Despite everything, or perhaps because of it. It had lasted a long time-- sixteen tense, loving, and emotional years-- Leonardo only prayed it lasted still. He needed it. They all did._

_"I promise... I'll bring him back. Raph's going to come home."_

--

"What..." Leo swallowed, ignoring the sickening way the question caught in his throat. "What have you been up to, Raph?"

His brother looked at him, and maybe before it would have seemed sharp, but now the edge seemed dull. Useless. "Same ol' same ol'... Jus' trying to help people, I guess."

Raph spoke hesitantly and there was this rough burr to his voice, but the turtle seemed to answer him honestly, and Leonardo took that as a sign. As close to a good one as he was going to get. "That... seems like you. Whereabouts?"

"Detroit."

That reply was terse, and Raphael looked away. Leo tried to remember what he heard of that city-- something about cars, of a huge lake, bad economy-- _crime_. Devil's Night and inner city kids. Hopelessness and trying one's hardest...

It was Raph, all right.

"I see." And somehow, Leo managed a smile, it was small-- but easy, with that wonderful impossibility sitting beside him and trying his best to participate in what could almost be considered a normal conversation. By their standards at least. "Did you like it?"

His brother shrugged, gaze hovering somewhere between Leonardo and the brightly lit sign behind him. For a moment, a horrible moment, Leo was almost reminded of _that night_, but he quickly chased the thought away-- the specter of Raph before him more powerful than any mere ghost of regret and memory.

"Why are you here, Raph?"

At this, a hint of the old Raph flittered onto the tough worn face before him. "This guy... there, there were these kids..." His brother coughed, harshly, apparently unused to speaking. "They said he'd come here, to this city." Raph's gaze, finally, snuck up to Leo's eyes, the faint light that was in them earlier now dimmed. "I wasn't... I wasn't really planning on--"

Having no interest in hearing his sibling finish that sentence-- he had a pretty good idea how it would end and it had nothing to do with him and his family's interests-- Leo had no problem interrupting. "Have you been... well?"

Raph shrugged, still there but somehow slipping away again-- sliding between the cracks of their shared tension, helped along by greasy awkward distance. Leo was losing him.

"I... I should..." Then his brother-- old and young and still trapped in this unknown in-between-- stood up. "Leo." His voice was gravely and halted.

_No._

He was moving forward despite all his plans... his desire to remain calm and in control of the situation, so he could somehow lure his tense brother into a sense of security... He was losing Raph, and he could _not_ do that. "You--"

His brother was bracing himself, one leg up on the edge of the roof, eyes carefully scanning the ground below. Probably, Leo idly mused even as his heart beat a desperate staccato rhythm against his plastron, judging exactly how he should jump down to street level. Even from this height, there was a way to do it that would avoid injury. And the stance Raph had-- well, that was the way Leonardo would do it, if he had to jump.

He couldn't hold it back anymore. "WHY?" His little brother paused-- oh so thankfully-- and sent Leo a panicked look. "Ten-- _ten years_, Raph! How could you even...?" His voice caught, and now he was the one looking away.

"It... the time just passed by." Raph had stopped moving. "I don't know... why I didn't. It just happened."

"_Bullshit_."

The word, and the emotion behind it, floated between them-- a delicate but dangerous soap bubble held aloft not by air but by sheer emotion. Leo was suddenly reminded of the games he and his brothers-- -all- his brothers-- used to play as children. Those days when Master Splinter let them play with the dish soap and crudely made rings of rusty wire. They had all covered their hands with the unnaturally orange fluid then each attempted to grasp and hold the iridescent globes that circled around them. But always they eventually popped.

This time-- it couldn't-- couldn't-- Sure, they weren't children anymore, hadn't been for a long time... but that didn't mean...

"The phone." Raph studied the ground, so far below them. "I just _couldn't_, Leo. I kept thinking-- I should... but then..." He shuddered, an unfamiliar expression briefly flitting onto his worn face. "I couldn't. All those years-- I just--" He cleared his throat again, turning away from Leonardo.

"What do you mean?"

Moving roughly-- like a pained old man-- Raph settled himself back upon the ledge, his face absently buried underneath his hands. "What do you want me to say, Leo?" He looked up, and for a startlingly familiar moment, Leonardo saw that old blaze his brother's eyes once again. That brilliant fire that had frightened and warmed them so many times. "I was... scared." He paused. "...There, admitted it-- happy now?"

Leo frowned. "No, I..." He didn't want Raph's fear, or his anger either-- He wanted...

Raph wasn't listening to him. "What do you want, Leo? All'a ya-- Yeah, I left... I was alone. But, there... wasn't anything there, wasn't nobody. N' I waited, but somehow I still--" He idly traced a disjointed pattern on the stained concrete and brick of the ledge. "Still woke up the next day. Jus' the bottle, and a bunch of assholes-- out there in th' city..."

"You could have come home."

His younger brother, desperate now, leapt up. "No! I couldn'ta. You..." He turned away from Leo on a boney heel, giving his brother only a hint of those blazing dark eyes. "You think-- I didn't wanna? Missed... I missed you guys. So much. I thought about it all the time... despite _everything_--" Here Raph's voice lowered, and Leo was only just barely able to make out the rest of what the younger turtle was saying. "I just wanted ta see ya again." It was soft, but easily the most smooth and coherent thing his jittery brother had managed to say since they met again.

Warmth, tempered by nothing less than pure cool relief, flooded through Leonardo as Raph finished, still facing away from him. His younger brother was-- Raphael had--

Something in Leo was breaking, so completely and utterly that he was surprised Raph wasn't jumping at the noise of it. Leonardo was now rushing forward-- and not even aware he was doing it. If he had been, he might have considered stopping. This was not part of _the plan_. He probably wouldn't have though...

Leo caught only a glimpse of his brother's shocked expression as the older turtle wrapped his arms around him and hugged-- then Leo's face was buried in the crook between Raph's neck and shoulders and he couldn't see anything any more. He could only feel-- and yes, there definitely wasn't any way he could stop this. "We're sorry, Raph." He ignored the embarrassing-- so unlike a Leader-- way his voice hitched and tightened his grip, thankful Raphael seemed too startled to move away from this contact. "There wasn't... wasn't a day you weren't in our thoughts... we missed you too."

A slight pressure settled on the back of Leo's shell, in two different places. Raph's hands, he realized with no small amount of surprise. His brother was holding him, returning Leo's unplanned-- but oh, so needed-- hug. Through Raph's scarred plastron, he could hear a faint noise-- a steady beating sound. Raph's heart.

Then, finally, Leo was able to relax. Years of tension not gone, but at long last put in their place. It was over.

Leonardo wasn't sure how long they clung to each other under that watchful discolored sky. It felt like forever and it wasn't long enough either. But eventually they pulled apart... and if Leo's face was a bit damp now, Raph didn't seem very likely to say anything about it. Both were turned away, very slightly, from the other now. Waiting.

It was time. "Raph..." He waited until his brother looked at him, then smiled faintly.

"Please come with me."


	3. Can't Go Home Again?

A/N: Since there was a question about it, please let me explain: I'm using what I heard was Peter Laird's age order. It could be wrong, and isn't too important. It seems to work pretty well in the movie verse and I've gotten used to using it for the co-written project I work on part-time, so there you go. It doesn't really factor into the fic in any sort of large way, but for the record in this particular fic/universe the guys go- Leo, Don, Raph, Mikey. I do think they are about the same age, however. Please don't let it bug you!

I'm really rather nervous about this story, so any and all feedback is very VERY greatly appreciated! I'm really afraid it's not turning out quite as well as it seemed in my head... Also, thank you dear readers and reviewers:)

Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles. In fact, I'm pretty sure they own me. Can I have my life back pleeaaase?

--

Like all the sentient beings he had met so far in his short crazy life, Raph had spent most of his existence with four limbs: Two of them being arms, and two legs. The usual.  
In the last several days, however, he seemed to have acquired an entirely new and clingy appendage. One by the name of 'Michelangelo', though everyone called him 'Mikey' for short. It suited the hyperactive and cheerful mutant turtle to a 'T'. That part, however, wasn't important. What was important was finding out if Donnie had improved in the medical arts enough to amputate _that_ kind of limb.

Raphael's eyes stole over to Mikey again, who was sitting on that beat-up red couch he remembered them owning _years_ ago. His younger brother was fiddling with the corner of the thin blanket he had draped over his green frame and supposedly-- like Raph himself-- watching the idiotic teenage drama show Mikey had found while channel surfing earlier.

In reality, both were watching each other, not the petite but dim girl on the large screen that was currently crying about a break-up or some other dumb emotional human thing. This was normal for both of them, had been since his entirely unplanned return to the Lair several days prior. Raph's youngest brother would not let him out of his sight... Well, not unless Mikey could help it, that is.

It should have annoyed Raphael, and on some level it _did_... but not enough that he complained about it or even said a single harsh word to his little brother. How could he? With Mikey always looking at him with wide awe-filled eyes, like a child who just found out Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy were real and throwing him a surprise party. Plus there was the undeniable fact that Raph was just as reluctant to leave Mikey-- or any of his family's-- side.

At the very least, Mikey wasn't being naggy or even the least bit negative. To the contrary, his little brother was being abnormally-- insanely-- cheerful. And also trying to be amusing, it looked like, but Raph didn't know how to laugh at jokes any more, not even Mikey's. If he was going to laugh, how was he supposed to know it was funny, anyways?

All of it was a real contrast to the younger turtle's words and actions during_ that night_.

It was awkward now, that's for certain, but Raphael was glad for that difference all the same. Even if he was still waiting for someone to pull the rug out from underneath him yet again.

It wasn't that Raph felt like he was dreaming and that he was in danger of waking up or anything cliché like that. His sleep was filled with either nightmares or nothingness, and sometimes he felt like he liked the nightmares more. So, yeah, he was perfectly aware of the difference between dreams and reality thank you very freaking much.

It was just that Raph wanted to _see_ them. To look at his family and know that they were really there. Somehow.

That was why he had nodded and agreed to Leo's invitation back on that rooftop. Even though by that point, he had gone from '_This is a bad idea._' to '_ARE YOU AS IDIOTIC AS YOU ARE INSANE, RAPHAEL?_' He had just wanted to see Mikey, Sensei, and Donnie again... and if it did hurt, well, he could deal with that. He had already met with Leo and somehow wasn't struck dead. He could do this, he had figured. He was used to pain, no biggie.

_ "Just a visit." Leo had assured him, as they leapt down to the roof and his brother worried away the manhole cover on the street below them. "No obligations. Just say 'Hi'... let them know you're all right." His brother had then smiled at him and leapt down into the waiting darkness._

That damn Leo. Even after a decade apart he still knew how to play Raph like a piano-- he had _known_ the second Raphael had seen them there was no way in hell he'd be able to leave them. That had been his oldest brother's plan, of that he had no doubts.

Now he was shacked up in his old room again, his family hovering around him like fireflies. Those Japanese ones, the ones that were dead souls-- or took your soul and then you were dead-- something like that. It had something to do with death.

His old room.

Jesus.

It looked exactly as it had when he left it, though slightly cleaner. It was definitely a step up from the garbage-strewn alleys or condemned buildings Raph usually crashed in. And it was _creepy_. Everything was still in its place-- everything looked like someone came in ever so often and dusted it. Hell, the sheets were fresh and clean when he first fell asleep in here for the first time in years several days ago.

It was like sleeping in some sort of shrine, and that thought made Raph very uncomfortable. It caused this dull gnawing feeling to claw away at his insides, and he just did not want to think about it.

Despite the fact it hadn't changed at all-- or really, perhaps because of it-- the room didn't feel like Raph's anymore. It wasn't just the fact that he hadn't lived in a 'home' for ten years, oh no. It was--

A pile of CDs on the small table by his bed. He tried listening to them yesterday... had to turn it off. He couldn't stand the music. Had he ever really liked it?

Posters, mostly movie and some sports teams, covering the narrow brick walls. He didn't recognize most of them-- couldn't recall what in the world the film was about, or what city those teams played for. Those things, they seemed childish now.

Automotive magazines, which he was pretty sure were covering the floor before but were now neatly stacked into a pile by the door. Cars and bikes-- he had loved them. He hadn't even taken the Nightwatcher's-- Merryweather's-- bike with him to Detroit. Didn't feel like he deserved... Raph just wanted to make sure it was safe. He had mothballed it carefully, along with his gear, right before he hitched a ride on a truck on his way the hell out of NYC. Hadn't touched an engine or smooth metal since.

Not his. None of it was.

His room-- hell, the entire Lair and everything... or least everyone... in it. They were like dead flies in chipped amber. Stuck in some imperfect timeless movement. Trapped. Was he meant to admire it like those well-dressed ladies over at the Somerset Collection? Hold it up to the light and remark on how pretty and well preserved it felt?

He couldn't.

---

_ Raphael was pretty certain he was, despite the fact that it would be embarrassing as hell and more than a little awkward, about to start screaming._

_They-- his family-- had all crowded around him the second he had nervously followed Leonardo into the familiar warm light of the Lair. His old home. In fact, Mikey-- apparently possessing speed that Raph was pretty certain a turtle shouldn't have-- had latched onto the front of the older turtle's shell approximately half a second after Raph stepped into the living room, blinking rapidly and shouting his name over and over._

_Mikey was still there and now Raph's plastron was damp. Still, Raph didn't know what to say. -They- were all here. They were all looking at him. They were too close-- it was overwhelming._

_He couldn't breathe._

_"Mikey..." Leo sounded regretful, stepping forward and placing a hand on the trembling youngest turtle's shoulder. "Everyone. I think Raph needs some air?" Raphael blinked, and Leo shot him a strange quick look-- a crooked but understanding half-smile._

_His younger brother gave him one last squeeze, then nodded ever so slightly and slowly moved backwards. Though, where he chose to linger was still closer than anyone had gotten to Raph, outside of a fight, in years. Mikey was now wiping at his face, a nervous look barely visible under his arm. Raph looked around, still trying to digest that this was really happening and needing to see his father and other older brother too._

_He swallowed, hoping his voice would work this time. "Everyone..." He managed, barely. He wasn't certain he could meet their eyes, but he wanted to see them all the same. This was important, so important._

_Before him were Mikey and Leo-- Mikey's eyes still watering and this strange, desperate, and large smile on his face. He was clinging to Leo's hand now, apparently in absence of Raph's own. Leo had stepped back slightly from Raph as well, watching his younger brother with this calm, almost proud, expression on his face. Why, Raphael wasn't quite certain._

_Donnie stood farther back then both of them, his usual reserved self, his dark eyes glittering at he studied his estranged and strange brother. He had been the only one not to say anything as Raph followed Leo into this place._

_Distantly-- for the brick walls of the room suddenly did seem to be moving farther and farther away, fading slightly-- Raphael wondered if this brother was still upset, and forced his gaze to travel up and meet Don's full on. He wouldn't run, he couldn't... and if there was going to be a problem here, it was best to just meet it and get it over with._

_But his brother merely smiled at him, slowly and from that great distance. "So, you are back." Donnie's head cocked slightly, then he took a step forward, joining his other two brothers. "It's good to see you again." He said, stiffly._

_"Raph!" Mikey leaned forward, studying Raph like he just now realized he was there. "You -are- alive! You are! I... I..."_

_"I can give him a check-up, Mikey." Don gave Mikey a smile, then looked back at Raph. Taking in his whittled-down frame, scars, bruises, and whatever look on his face he had on right now, Raph was certain. "Bet you haven't had one in a long while, Raphael. And you know health is important... especially if one's... doing whatever it is you have been doing."_

_Raphael was about to move away-- maybe even flee again-- but suddenly Donnie's hand was on his upper arm, and there was a much warmer smile on the older turtle's face. "I'm glad you're all right, bro."_

_At that, Raph definitely couldn't speak anymore. He simply shut his eyes and nodded, soaking in the feeling of having his family around him once more. Of not being alone. At the edge of that near-peace, however, his nerves jangled-- someone was approaching him, from behind and to the left. His eyes flew open._

_Oh._

_Yes, there was one last person in his room. The one who was now in front of him, and pulling him into a fragile but strong hug. A real one, unlike Mikey's barnacle impression earlier._

_His father._

_Shocked, Raph watched as his Sensei's famous control left him, the aged rat suddenly pulling him even closer. Raph could feel those paw-like hands shaking, ever so slightly, and reeled. He was-- was--_

_"Welcome home, my son."_

_And with that, Raphael's own control left him._

---

"Hey, Raph?" Mikey was standing, his blanket pooling around his ankles. "I'm having a munchies attack here, can I get you anything? Chips? Pizza? Left-over Chinese?" Mikey was forcing another grin. "Some of Leo's candy? I know where he hid his stash..."

Raph blinked. "Er. It's 'kay, Mikey." He watched as the girl on the show-- maybe it was the same one as before, he wasn't sure-- pulled on some other female's hair, both of them screaming insults at each other. "M' not... that hungry."

" Aww, come on, bro!" His younger brother followed his gaze up to the TV, and frowned. "Is the show boring? I bet it's boring. Uuuh... I think racing should be on around this time. I can change it to that. Want me to change it to that? Or we could watch the Food Network..."

"Mikey." Raph waited until his brother paused, mouth still open from his babbling. He managed something that he hoped looked like a smile. God, was he out of practice. "It's fine. Go... get your snack."

Mikey's artificial cheerful look was fading now, falling from his face like acid rain. And damn if that didn't look somehow worse than it being plastered in place to begin with. "But..."

"You can get me something... if you want." Raph gestured to the kitchen, eyes drifting back to the safety of mindless television. "Chips." He had liked those once, he remembered. Especially the Cool Ranch ones Mikey was also partial too.

Out of the corner of his eye, Raphael watched his youngest brother smile widely at him, nodding like some high-speed bobble-head, then dash to the kitchen. All while shouting something about picking the perfect kind for Raph.

Then Mikey was gone.

Raph listened to the younger turtle rummage around in the kitchen, not even bothering to pretend to pay attention to the stupid show now that it wasn't needed to distract him-- or at least appear to-- from his younger brother.

Mikey...

Mikey might have been happy, having him around again, but he was suffering too. Raph could tell. Even if his already piss-poor social skills had degenerated over the years, he still understood this particular brother on some deep subconscious level. Courtesy of being the youngest two, he supposed. Raphael could always read his kid brother like a book. The kind with huge text and lots of shiny colorful pictures, in fact.

His baby brother was suffering, that much was obvious, and Raph was the one to blame. He just wasn't... good at this. Being with people. Even-- no, _especially_-- his family. Raph wasn't good at talking, contact, or even something as simple as killing time. Being with people. Normal stuff. The stuff the others had no problems with when dealing with each other.

The way they kept looking at him now-- those scared, nervous, and pitying looks-- he couldn't stand it. It made him feel like a monster. The sort of monster who hurt his own damn family, his father and brothers, then came back years later so everyone could try and pretend nothing was wrong.

Raph was the one who was wrong. He knew this-- he really was a monster, had known that for a decade now. But, all the same, he hated seeing them suffer. He might not have been used to living in a big happy group any more... but that was okay, he didn't deserve it either.

He just wasn't good at this anymore.


	4. A Talk

A/N: I'd like to thank the talented and wonderful Aubretia Lycania once more for her immense help with this fic... in this case, she didn't just beta... she actually wrote the flashback section that appears here as a guest writer! Thanks also to DJ Rose for sweetly sending me some bunny-ing song lyrics and to Winnychan and Vashsunglasses for keeping me going each chapter! You guys are the greatest:)

---

There are some realizations that change your entire life and outlook on things. Some things so earth-shattering, yet so subtle that somehow your whole being twists and warps around it like ragged yarn around a spool. For Mikey and his brothers, that horrifying realization had come seven years previous, on a day during which by mutual and unspoken consensus, they had finally understood that Raph wasn't coming home to them. Not now or ever.

At the same time though, that horrible understanding had been coupled with the start of something else... a thing a whole lot more pleasant. For from that day on, Mikey and his brothers had changed. Gone from being brothers, to being _brothers_. Frightened by the realization of what they could lose, they clung to each other even more tightly.

The brothers bonded. They watched each other more closely and made a greater effort to comprehend both the mind and motivations behind each other's actions. They protected each other with even more passion than they ever had before.

They finally _understood_ each other.

Thus, Mikey wasn't too surprised when his oldest brother Leonardo sought him out one afternoon for a talk. Leo had been giving him these thinly-veiled concerned looks throughout the last week and the younger turtle just knew it was a matter of time before Leo went for his usual follow up of "Hey do you want to talk?".

Michelangelo _knew_ Leo now. Knew Leo was worried about him-- that slight high lilt to his voice, the way his brows furrowed whenever he looked Mikey's way-- and he also got that Leo would never let concern rest. Leo was a doer, and that doing typically involved trying to talk it out nowadays... ever since the fight. Of all of them, Leonardo was the most panicked about keeping what they had.

Thus this conversation. This was Leo's way of watching his back.

Taking advantage of their distance from the living room--which contained the silent and strange mutant turtle that would likely be the topic of their discussion--Leo gave Mikey a wan smile and silently gestured for him to relax against the clammy wall of the sewer around them.

"--Just wanted to talk, Mikey." Leo was explaining, eyes on the distant vestige of what most would call their "front door" but was for them more of a "trap door." Emphasis on "trap." Donnie had really done a stellar job with that one. "I've been a little--"

Mikey returned the smile, tit-for-tat. Though he softened it up quite a bit. "Worried?" He traced an idle pattern against the wall-- some weird logo he and Raph had designed back when they were kids and attempted to mark on every sewer wall, floor, and junction back in those innocent days. "I'd say I'm surprised..." He pulled himself away from his drawing and met his brother's eyes. "But I'm not. So, what gotcha so bugged this time, bro?"

"Raph."

The younger turtle rolled his eyes as over-dramatically as he could muster, despite the vague nervous shudder that name still produced in him. Then he gave Leo what he hoped was an amusingly surprised look. He was good at those. "Wow, really!? Here I thought we were going to discuss what was for dinn--"

"Mikey." Leo sighed. "You don't have to..." His eyes shifted from the distant door-- and the threat of Raph or someone else exiting the Lair to see what they were up to-- and focused completely on Michelangelo. Which was always sort of unnerving. Leo had this way, much like their father, of somehow looking _into_ you at the same time he was looking at you. Very creepy. "...I remember how you were a few years ago." Leo finally said, after a long pause. "You were more bitter and angry at Raphael than any of us. And now..."

The orange-banded turtle snorted. "And what? Now I leave those things up to Donnie. He's handling it quite nicely, wouldn't you say?" As Leo seemed about ready to reply his rhetorical question, Mikey waved his hand vaguely to interrupt. "That stuff's done now, Leo. It's not important."

That much was true. Mikey had been like Donnie... but worse... not too many years ago, after all. He had been very pissed off at Raph for leaving them and not coming back-- or even letting them know he was okay-- and stayed that way for what felt like ages. So he understood where his older brother was coming from and how he felt. Maybe deep down, at the tip of some neglected but irate nerve ending he still felt that way, but he had moved past that now. One morning he had woken up, poured himself a bowl of cereal and realized he had been wasting his time all those years. Seeing his brother again now just cemented those feelings. He forgave Raph.

And if Don couldn't do the same, well... Mikey wouldn't begrudge that opinion. Because he once completely agreed, but because one of the many lessons he had learned from this whole painful mess was that sometimes his brothers not only disagreed with him but had different ways of doing things. They might have been close, but they weren't the same person.

So in those cases, the best thing to do was just smile, nod, and trust your brother. That was it.

"I don't want to waste a moment with him." Mikey explained, taking note of the serious expression on his brother's face as Leo nodded. "I guess I didn't see it then, but I do now... and yeah, I know this sounds hokey so just shut it..."

Leo just looked at him.

"...Raph being here now is what's important. _That's _what we gotta protect." Mikey sighed, feeling suddenly older... a lot older... than his almost twenty-seven years of age. He really wished he was a teenager again, so he could have avoided this conversation completely with a 'Pizza dude has thirty seconds,' or a yo-yo or something. But he wasn't a kid anymore, and he had bigger things on his mind.

He was a self-proclaimed adrenaline junky... there wasn't a pipe he couldn't take at some reckless speed, a fight he was afraid to jump into with some sort of goofy catch-phrase, or a hair-pin turn he wouldn't risk with his clunky van... but that didn't mean he was one for the drama. Not like his brothers.

Don, Leo, Raph-- all of them always got too hung up on the details.

Don tended to overanalyze and philosophize, with him you were never -ever- talking about what was happening here and now. You were talking about some huge big picture that half the time you weren't even know existed before. It was really rather incredible how many lines and events Donnie was able to connect together at those times, but at the same time it was very disturbing how his brother could make the rain in Spain the fault of who didn't do the dishes last and take it very personally at the same time.

With Leo it was always honor and morals... which sounded very nice on paper and when Sensei talked about it, but sometimes didn't seem to fit too well into the modern lives of a bunch of mutants living among the wastes of human society. Leo just set his goals too high, Mikey thought... which was nice in that Leo was always trying his best and managed some pretty freakin' amazing feats because of that... and sucked because at the same time his oldest brother never had a chance to be happy with himself or others. Leonardo was rarely content period.

And Raph?

Mikey had never met a person-- turtle, human, or something else entirely-- quite as prideful and oversensitive as his most immediate big brother. The pride part was almost funny in a sad sort of way... as the years went on and he got to understand more about how others really worked... the more that pride started to look like the opposite of what it was supposed to be. And when that low self-esteem started to work with Raph's natural overemotional nature? Whew...

He supposed they were lucky Raphael didn't just keel over with a heart attack or something at a young age from the emotional gamut he put himself through every day. Mikey also supposed it was rather cute that Raph did actually feel and -care- about things. That brother of his always had a big heart, and back in the day, it had been a nice contrast to Don and Leo's apparent disinterest.

So yes, all of those traits were great in their own way... and made his brothers who they were. Michelangelo loved Don, Leo, and Raph the way they were too, flaws and all... but at the same time...

Take those traits to an extreme and you get ten years of not having a brother in your life anymore. Years of fear, curiously hollow family events and holidays, Raph's birthday coming and going each year with the same vibe that usually came during funerals, and all of them trapped in prisons of _'I should have said this_' and _'I should have run after him'_...

God only knows what Raph went through.

Mikey just didn't want to think about those things any more. He wasn't going to look too deeply into what happened, concern himself with what was 'right' or 'wrong', or let his emotions carrying him off like a runaway horse. He just wanted to enjoy each day with his family as it came. That was it.

---

_Mikey had come closer to him; his blue eyes wide, swallowing the vision of this headless Nightwatcher, this kneeling, impotent hero. It was the armor, so familiar and yet so foreign, his brother's head, like a skull of fire in the hand of the Horseman, floating on top, out of place in the animated metal._

_"Raph-- dude, you really the Nightwatcher, 'r were you just playin' a trick on Leo after all that smack he talked? Cuz if so, it was a real good one… except the whole… like… fight. At the end." Doubt flashed across Mikey's features, as Raph looked at him._

_"It's not a joke, Mikey… I, uh… um…"_

_"Raphael," Splinter cut in, bringing control back. "I ask that you apologize to Leonardo, for raising your weapons, and putting the pair of you in danger. Then we shall all talk about this."_

_"I wasn't 'gallivantin' 'r whatever-- an' I sure as hell won't apologize fer being the Nightwatcher, if that's whatcha want! At least I was doin' somethin'! I'm sorry I'm not cut out for fixin' mega computers 'r makin' people laugh. This's all I'm good at! I was tryin' to do somethin' good!"_

_Mikey swallowed. "Well-- ya coulda told us, if that's what you were doin'! Why be ashamed of it, dude? You coulda been shot 'r somethin'—you dealt with some hefty criminals while you were out there, an' ya never had backup! Even I know that's stupid!"_

_Raph's rage turned on him, and softened. "'Cuz I knew how Donnie'd react, Mikey--"_

_"You're… you're jus' a kid, Mike… I didn't want you mixed up in…"_

---

"...Mikey?" Leo's voice broke through the younger turtle's musings like a concerned hacksaw. "Were you listening? I was just asking if--"

Michelangelo frowned, just a little, as he turned away from his brother slightly and attempted to regain his composure. "Yeah, Leo, I was-- and of course I've noticed it. I mean, you'd have to be blind not to see how jumpy Raph's been since he came back." He turned back to Leo, now smiling. "And no matter what Don and Sensei say about how many times I've played video games and their affect on my vision..." He paused and waited for Leo to snort. "I can see totally great."

His brother nodded. "Good." He then sighed, leaning up against the same wall as his younger brother. "I guess... I mean, what I'm saying is that I sort of know how Raph's feeling right now. I mean, not much... a little over a year is nothing like a whole decade, but..."

Mikey thought back to that long-ago training mission and Leo's return from it.. Now that he thought about it, his oldest brother had been like Raphael was now-- just a little-- during the first day or so after his return. Mikey still vividly remembered that startled awkward look Leo had on his face when the younger turtle leapt from the couch to give him his typical enthusiastic greeting... and the way it seemed to take time before Leo would turn his back on a door or chat normally with them.

He wondered if he would have been the same way if he had a chance to go on one of those training missions. He had never had the chance... nor had Donnie either, of course. The last thing their father had wanted-- in the aftermath of Raph's departure-- was to let another one of his sons out of his sight. Thus no long journey for him.

He still wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not.

"I know you are really happy to see him again." Leo said softly. "We all are... and we're all scared to lose him again. Even Donnie-- as much as he's trying to pretend otherwise."

"Well, of course I--"

Leonardo held up a hand to silence him, a familiar gesture from their training runs and fights against the Foot. "What I'm trying to say is that I _understand_, Mikey... but you're making him nervous. The way he's been acting-- he's not used to it. It's space he needs, not smothering."

" I..." His heart was sinking. Leo was right-- as he had often been since he finally got off his high horse and really started to _watch _his younger brothers instead of just leading them.

For a moment, he had a glimpse-- more of a vision, really-- of the beat-up carapace of Raph's shell. Of his older brother's back, becoming smaller and smaller as Raph walked away into the darkness he seemed to favor.

Leaving them again.

"I... know, Leo." Mikey swallowed. "You think I don't see the way he winces every time I try to touch him or the way he jumps backwards anytime anyone tries to get too close?" He stepped away from the wall, facing Leo-- and was relieved to see the soft look in his brother's hazel eyes. "An' I know he looks all boggled and upset anytime I try to talk with him... but I can't-- can't--" He trailed off, unable to continue, the vision of Raphael still moving away from him. Farther and farther away.

"Mikey..."

Determination surged through him, urged on by the same fear that produced this Catch-22 of a situation to begin with. "I'll try and step back a bit, bro. I mean, if it's what's gonna keep Raph happy and _here_, I'll find a way, even if it's really hard."

Strangely enough, Leo was now gently but widely smiling at him. That soft warm glow in his eyes even brighter now. His hand came forward, resting on Mikey's shoulder-- a solid and warm presence. "I believe you, Mikey. I do." His fingers carefully tightened. "Maybe... I mean, we can't know for sure. Not with _Raph_. But perhaps he does appreciate your gestures, deep inside. We all know the kind of person you are, brother..."

Eyes burning, Mikey swallowed again. "You think?" He didn't wait for Leo to reply and continued on. "I hope so... but I'll still... I dunno, try'n find a balance 'r something."

"It'll work out just fine." Leo said sagely, and Mikey really wished he knew where his brother got that confidence. Unfair of Leo to be holding out on the rest of them, the jerk.

"So..." He gave his older brother one last thankful smile and then shook off the hand on his shoulder. "Thirsty? All this heart-to-heart stuff has me craving some sugar-- soda sound good?"

Leo laughed. "Not sure. Did you guys drink all my Dr. Pepper again?"

"That was just _once_, Leo! Jeez!"

Still laughing, the two of them entered the Lair, blinking as they entered the considerably brighter area that was their living room. Raph was where they left him, on the couch watching TV.

"Reports of several more missing children have come in today from the outskirts of both Harlem and Queens." said the perky lady in the navy blue blazer on their 'set, managing a sort of sad look. "This is in the aftermath of several other disappearances of young children that have been rocking many of the less well-to-do neighborhoods of New York in the last several days. Police have given their assurances that they are on the case, and our hearts here at KWB go out to the families of the missing. Now to Doug Carlson with Sports!"

Raph's eyes were locked onto the television, darkly sparking with some unholy angry determined light. The grim set of his jaw both made Mikey want to shudder and smile-- it was familiar.

"It's _him_."


	5. Parallel Paths

A/N: Really sorry about the delay on this chapter! My personal life sorta went to heck lately... as did my motivation and self esteem. ;; I hope this was worth the wait! This really should be one of the last 'slow' chapters before things really pick up... at least I hope so! glares out outline

Important note! This chapter refers to a Mirage!Universe character who played a big role in Casey and Shadow's life. Yeah, I just pulled a Mirage character into the Movie!verse... (Wait, I did that with Shadow already, didn't I?) Anyways, I'll do my best to explain in both in this chapter and over the course of the fic. If you must know right away, look up her backstory on Casey's wikipedia article. I work off of that a lot.

My beta is currently out of town, but I will have my backup beta looking this chapter over tomorrow afternoon. You'll know it's updated when you don't see this note anymore. :D

Please please enjoy! And please remember that reviews really make an author's day.

----

Casey Jones was no stranger to having his life turned upside down with abrupt swiftness. These changes always came to him brutally and with no small amount of pain-- A team-mate's badly aimed snap shot robbing him of both his career and his dreams. His young wife Gabrielle dying during what should have been one of the happiest moments a couple could have.

Life, he supposed, was just a finicky bitch like that.

Somehow, though, it all ended up working out fine in the end. If he had continued to play professionally-- he never would have met Raph and then through him the guys, Splinter, and April. If Gabby hadn't died giving birth to Shadow, Casey wouldn't have returned to the City and never would have ran into his ex-girlfriend April shortly afterwards.

He never would have guessed he would be so lucky, not during those dark times. But he had it all now: A fantastic, intelligent, and beautiful wife, an adorable, daring, and happy daughter, and the best friends a guy could ask for.

And now Raph was back too.

Which brought Casey back to this moment: Sitting at the Turtles' well-worn kitchen table with said estranged best friend and his and April's beloved photo album.

"So that's it for the wedding photos... at least for this book. April's got, like a huge book of just those things if you are interested, Raph." He flipped the page. "I just picked out the 'portant ones for this book. So next are some birthday party photos..."

They had already been through several pages of memories: Shadow's baby pictures, several of her first day of school and school festivals, vacations, trips to the farm with the guys...

All along Raph didn't say a word. Just stared.

Casey swallowed. "Um, so this one is her-- well, not her _first_ bath-- I didn't have a camera then. But this is the one where she splashed water all over me." He pointed to the wet stain spread across the front of the red shirt the him in the photo was wearing. "April thought it'd be a funny photo. And it was better than some of the other stuff Shadow got on my shirt!"

Raph looked down at the photo, his expression still distant and blank. "...What about her mother? You haven't... said a thing 'bout her. No photos." Idly, the turtle touched the border of the photo, his hand covering up the picture of Mikey and Shadow having a 'funny faces' contest.

"Gabby?" Casey's eyes also drifted down to the photo, taking in the sight of his infant daughter. Shadow was the very image of her late mother-- staring up at him were Gabby's eyes, her hair, the shade of her skin. If Shadow had anything of her biological father in her, it sure didn't show. He was glad.

"I... didn't get any photos of her, Raph."

It was funny. Two and a half books of photos of his and April's wedding, and he didn't think to get a single one taken of his and Gabrielle's courthouse ceremony. 'I can do it later, when we have a real wedding ceremony.' He had figured. It seemed like they had all the time in the world.

They didn't.

Even after all these years-- years with April, who really had been his first real love-- it still hurt. Gabby had been so young... had her whole life ahead of her. She should have had the chance to spend time with the daughter she had died to bring bring into the world. It wasn't fair.

But Raphael was here, and damn if Casey wanted to be bad company for him right now. Raph had his own problems, he didn't need Casey's too. "...Gabby never got to see Shadow, I think. The Doctors said she was under when she... passed on." He smiled down at a photo, where Shadow smiled back up at him with her mother's quirky half-smile. "Gabby would have found this photo funny too."

"I..." the turtle looked away, so all Casey had to go on was the tone of his voice. Which happened to be monotone. "I'm sorry. Casey." The human watched as his friend's fingers tightened, gripping his green knees with what looked to be slightly painful force.

Though he knew Raph couldn't see it, Casey shook his head at the turtle's back. "Jus' the way it goes. We both had rough times, right?"

Raph just sat there.

Casey shut the album, wondering where exactly Leo and Mikey were. When they called him up earlier, it had sounded urgent. There was a rough edge to his buddy's Mikey's voice-- a subtle hint that something was up with the guys. Casey had even brought all his gear, something he hadn't done often since Shadow had been born.

He had only brought the album as an afterthought, so he... if Raph let him... could try and catch up on the times with his old friend.

"Sorry, man. Know that album stuff is dull." Nervously, he chuckled. "Never would have pegged me as a guy with baby pictures, huh?" He paused, and when Raph didn't answer-- the turtle just turned around in his seat, looking at the closed book-- he continued on. "Didn't mean to bore you."

"No."

Raph's voice was ever so slightly louder than before. He reached forward, opening up the album exactly at the page they were just at in a smooth graceful motion. "Was looking at it." Raph frowned, and when he looked back up at Casey, a ghost of some awkward, guilty misery still haunting his face. "I just..."

"Hey." Casey waved his hand, feeling a little nervous now himself. "It's nothin'." Then, quickly-- before Raph could say or do anything else-- he leaned over the album again. "Oh! Here's the one of her eating cake at her first birthday. Wait, I mean _wearing _the cake...!"

This was entirely like and unlike the encounter he had with Raph-- their first meeting in _years_-- that had taken place several days prior.

---

_Shadow was bouncing up and down so quickly that Casey was fairly certain she was about to sick up over the sewer floor._

_"Uncle Raph?" She rocked forward, then somehow up. "Uncle Raph, right? I'm Shadow! Nice to meetcha!" she proudly proclaimed, giving her chest a slight 'thump'. "Are you gonna stay? Where have you been? What sorts of foods do you like?"_

_Raph-- who the blond-haired child was currently bouncing in front of-- gave Shadow a look not very unlike the way that sunfish April landed over at the lake the other week looked. Well, before April screamed and kicked it back into the lake._

_Vaguely, he wondered if he should kick Raph into something. It could help._

_Shadow touched the recently returned turtle's arm, not noticing the way Raph flinched. "You don't like broccoli, right? It's gross. Mommy makes me eat it sometimes, and it's really not fair. Does anyone make you eat broccoli, Uncle Raph?"_

_"Shadow, sweetie..." Before Casey could react, April stepped forward, a tremulous smile wavering on her face. "Give Uncle Raph some room, okay? He can't answer if you are talking at him." She turned to Raph, looking a little red faced. "Sorry, she gets like this sometimes..."_

_Raph shrugged in response, still looking a bit spooked. "She's a kid, right? They do that."_

_"...You do look like you could use some greens, though." muttered his wife, staring at Raph's face. "Not healthy looking at all. All bones, skin, and muscles... what have you been eating?" She glanced around the room, as if one of them had the answer to her question. When no one answered, she frowned. "I'll get something decent into you, Raph."_

_"Ah-- Geez, April." Raph looked away quickly, rubbing the back of his head with one shaky hand. "You don' hafta."_

_April put her hands on her hips. "I want to. Now, listen--" She sounded stern._

_Knowing he better say something, and -fast-, Casey leapt forward. "Honey! Er--" She looked about ready to glare at him, and Shadow was starting to pout. In the distance, he barely noticed Leo, Mikey, and Don-- who all were starting to crack up, the jerks. "I was wanting to talk to Raph. You know... privately. It's been a while."_

_Raph gave him a startled look, and Casey quickly flashed their universal hand gesture for 'Trust me I'll handle it' at him. Hopefully his best bud still remembered it. Damn if they hadn't used it often in the past-- like that one time Master Splinter caught them both returning to the Lair both drunk and late. Course that time it didn't work. Actually, most the times things got a whole lot worse after one of them used the gesture._

_Good times, man. Good times._

_After a short while, Raph nodded. Then-- quickly enough that it almost seemed like some sort of magic trick-- the room cleared._

_Casey uncomfortably shifted on the couch. "So..."_

_Raph glanced back at the kitchen door. Where the rest of their family had excused themselves. And were probably snooping, knowing them. So such thing as privacy in their group... came of being ninja, he supposed. The turtle didn't say anything, not for a long while._

_"...Leo said something 'bout you continuing to kick punk ass, Raph." Just to have something to do, Casey took a sip out of the soda Mikey had brought him earlier. It was disgustingly flat. Damn, he wished he had a beer right now... that'd make this a lot easier. "That true?"_

_The turtle in front of him haltingly nodded. "...True 'nough, I guess. Been-- doin' it alot for a few y'rs." He shrugged, his eyes jerking back to the kitchen door as if on a string._

_Raph had still been fighting crime._

_It was like-- well, not like some light lit up at an end of a tunnel or anything like that-- it was more like Casey had just finally noticed a light that had been shining on him -years- now. Or maybe it was just that a darkness had been pulled away from him._

_Raphael had still been fighting the good fight all these years. All while Casey couldn't-- caught up in that big fight with April and the guys, in meeting and marrying Gabby, in Shadow's birth and his wife's death, his return to the City and then his life as a-- sorta-- respectable family man._

_Raph did it for him._

_A grin-- so wide it hurt his face-- came upon him, and Casey almost laughed, it felt so good. "You stuck it to the scumbags... that's great. So great..."_

_For a moment, he almost felt -there- again-- back on the streets, some near rape or robbery victim running away to safety while he high-sticked a few creeps. Then the moment passed, and all he could see were Shadow and April-- smiling warmly at him._

_"...Thank you, Raph."_

_And, miracles of miracles, he was able to catch Raph's gaze. He wasn't able to hold it for long-- had only the merest glimpse of struggle and pain in those dark eyes before his old friend managed to slip out of it and retreat once more._

_"No." Raph rumbled, turning away again. "You don'... don't get it..."_

_Casey blinked. "What?"_

_"No choice."_

---

"Casey." Leo gestured to him to come over from just beyond the living room. "Do you have a moment?"

It was about time!

Grinning and nodding, the dark-haired man stood up, leaving Raph with the photo album and his flat can of Dew.

"Uuuh, if you want to... you can look at it... or something." He informed his friend quickly, and with that he fled to the relative safety of Leonardo. Leo might be cursed with the occasional stick up his ass, but you could say this for the guy-- he was an easy read. Not that he wasn't a complex guy or anything, but everyone who knew Leonardo knew exactly what motivated him and how he felt about things.

Not like Raph was nowadays.

Once they were out of earshot, Casey nervously grinned and brushed his long hair out of his line of vision. "Well... geez... thought the guy was a little terse _before_. Guess there is one of those Zen moral lessons of yours in that, huh?"

Leo shook his head, pausing momentarily to glance behind him. "Raph? He's... not good with people. Not yet, at least. But..." He smiled reassuringly. "If he wasn't interested in those photos, he would have just left you without a word. He enjoyed them."

"If you say so..." As if to challenge his own words-- and Casey loved a good challenge-- he grinned, relieved. "So what's up?"

"Well, we know why Raph came back-- I mean, to New York." Leo frowned, idly readjusting his swords. "He talked to me and Mikey about it yesterday, after seeing this news report. Apparently he's looking for some guy..."

Casey nodded, thinking back to his own-- stilted-- conversation with his estranged best friend just days prior. "Raph was saying something about looking for some guy. Said that's what he was doin' when he ran into Shadow."

"'Slim'. Raph said the guy's name is 'Slim'." Now Leo looked faintly ill. "That's not all. There have been some unsolved kidnappings of children Raph noticed... back in Detroit. Poor minority kids, so the police... didn't do what was truly honorable. They didn't pursue it like they should have."

Somehow feeling faintly ashamed, Casey nodded. That sort of situation... he saw it many times back here on the streets of New York. It had been one of the many reasons why he decided on vigilantism as a hobby after his injury.

"Raph stopped a few of the kidnappings, and the thugs he interrogated all mentioned this 'Slim' character and his... prospector of 'goods'. They say he pays well... and represents the interest of an even larger client, who apparently likes them young and helpless. No one knows what happens to them..." The blue-masked turtle shuddered. "There're just rumors."

Casey's brow furrowed. "That's... horrible... but... this was back in Detroit? Why come to the Big Apple, then?"

"Well, apparently Slim's the top guy in this... field. And, starting a few weeks ago, Raph started to hear from several sources that his man was being moved here to our city to 'start up operations'. Problem is, no one knows his name-- or what he looks like. Just what he does." Now Leo really did look sick-- almost a slightly off-color shade of green.

Heh, that was almost funny.

"Raph is dead set on finding Slim's agent and stopping these crimes once and for all." Leo said firmly. "Yesterday on the news there were reports of crimes that sounded like his modus operandi. Therefore--"

"That sicko creep is _here_."

Missing children.

His own daughter had nearly been-- attacked? Accosted? Taken? He wasn't sure, and he was glad that Raph had been there to stop it before there was a way to be sure about it-- only a week or so before.

So, this sort of thing? He took it _really_ personally.

"So what do you guys need me to do?" Casey frowned, wishing he didn't leave his gym back out in the living room with Raph. "I'm a bit out of practice-- but damn if I'm going to let this sort of thing. You guys-- and Raph-- you got Casey Jones behind you."

"We know." Leo smiled, understandingly. "We're all on it-- Weirdly enough, Raph is actually letting us help too. Donnie's been mapping out and researching stuff and all of us have been patrolling above ground..."

"...And me?"

"Backup." Leo's gaze grew distant, as if he could somehow see back into the living room-- where Raph was. "There's a chance, if Raph decides to go handle this on his own... that he might talk to you or call you first. We want you ready and informed-- and with him. Just in case."

"Leo." He swallowed. "You know Raph didn't call me at all either all that time. Not once."

The turtle winced.

"...Thank you though." Casey whispered, more to himself than to his younger friend.

Yeah, it still hurt. Best buds and...

And Raph just left.

It wasn't like Casey wouldn't have understood. He had been having his own problems around that time, had been having his own issues with a loved one just not understanding him.

He had left town a mere year after his buddy. And while the others didn't really fill him in on what happened between them and Raph-- Raphael had been quite the taboo subject several months after his departure-- he had a guess.

It wasn't too different from what happened to him.

In a twisted way, he supposed, he had been almost following Raph-- following him out of town, following him down that dark twisted path that had always beckoned to the two of them so strongly. No one in the world understood him as well as Raph had-- not April, not Gabby-- no one. And in return, he understood his friend pretty damn well.

Two lonely damned souls, both of them.

Only he came out of it. He came back home-- made up with April, became friends again with the guys, had his daughter to light up his life-- he got _everything_ back. Everything in the world he could have wished for. He was _happy_.

He and Raph, they always seemed to be following each other-- into parks, antique shops, alleyways, farms-- sometimes hell itself. In the end, though, he was always following Raph, really. When it really mattered.

Just this once... just this one time...

"I'll do everything I can."

...He hoped Raph would follow _him _instead.


	6. Sleepless Nights

A/N: So here I am with another chapter full of ponies, kittens, and rainbows--

...Ah, who am I kidding? It's the next chapter of Inevitable, and it's an angsty one. I'm sort of going off on an artistic limb here, and really hope I don't fall off of it. If this entire fic has been a something of a personal dare, this part here is probably the most experimental. Ack, let me know what you think!

Anyways, mucho thanks to my betas: Winnychan & MTAngeli both of whom are helping me out while Aubrey is out of town. And thank you also to artykidd, FloofWolfe, Taiven, and Tristripe. You guys motivated me more than you could ever know:)

Please enjoy!

---

He couldn't sleep.

Again.

Raphael shifted in his chair, giving the kitchen he was currently occupying another quick go-over. It was an ingrained habit by now-- too many times he had been jumped by vindictive punks upset over him taking down their buddies... or he had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

This space around him, this cheerful wide-open kitchen, it felt like a death trap. Too many shadows, too many corners, too many places someone could be hiding and waiting to strike. What if he was _seen_?

And it was eerie too, it lacked that basic hum of activity that Detroit had. That disorientating but comforting mixture of yells, loud music, screams, laughter, misery, and _life_. There were no groups of loudly dressed kids walking down your hiding spot down here, on their way to a party or a fight. Or a mixture of the two, if they could find it.

In any case, it was Raph's motto that you couldn't be too alert. With all the assholes in the world, you just what would happen . You were on your own and had to watch your own back or you were just stupid, and soon to be dead.

Finished with his brief survey of the room, Raph relaxed ever so slightly. For now, the coast was clear. No one would be bugging him and he was free to enjoy his drink in relative safety. Allowing himself something that almost resembled a smile, he picked up the plastic jug on the table before him, pouring more into the plastic up he snagged out from the dirty dishes side of the sink. It had looked clean enough to him, so no problem. Besides, wasn't this shit supposed to sanitizing or something?

Cheap bottom-shelf vodka and Mikey's Kool-Aid fruit punch, the ultimate 'Nightcap'. Good enough for him, and at least he hoped it would help him sleep. He wasn't too good at that anymore, hadn't been in years. Nightmares, insomnia, sleep patterns as fickle as a rich fiancée-- You name it. Sleep just wasn't a friend of his, the ass. Fortunately it wasn't like he needed it most the time or nothing-- he just liked having the option available.

Raph really felt like he was spoiling himself here. Fruit punch. Geez. Was he a college girl or something? It wasn't like him not to drink it straight. Living with his family again was obviously making him soft.

A chilled beverage, a table not covered in grime, stains, and garbage, a little bowl of popcorn Mikey set out for him before he went to bed, a clean working _kitchen_ around him-- this was just too much.

He felt like an intruder-- like he just broke into someone's happy home. This wonderful room, it just wasn't _his_. It wasn't part of his life, either. He was half waiting for someone to wise up to this fact and chase him out of this promised land, screaming at him for taking their stuff.

Raph didn't belong here.

Too much had changed-- he was becoming more certain of that fact with each passing day. He had warped and bent into the twisted heap he was today and his brothers had in turn morphed into stronger, bonded, and more distant beings. When they weren't looking at him, they seemed happy enough.

He was pretty sure he liked that.

Raph had listened to them yesterday, and the day before that and the day before that one, too-- and he still had no clue what the hell they were talking about half the time. It was sheer gibberish. He was an outsider now-- not their brother. An intruder who didn't get their in-jokes, subtle facial expressions, or risk-free love.

Part of him wanted to laugh at the hokey-ness of it all, it was so like one of those stupid Disney movies Mikey made them watch a million times... and then cried over each and every damn single viewing.

The rest of him wanted to stab that half for its amused and bitter apathy.

So what? Time had passed-- that happens. People change, go their separate ways. They were just as afraid to approach him as he was afraid to get close to them and that was just normal. What was he trying to complain about?

He took a deep chug of his drink. Hell, even Casey and April had changed-- not only did they have a kid now, but... hell... Casey, his best friend, had spent more time with his brothers than with him. Several times now, he had heard about how close he and Mikey were.

He knew he was to blame for this.

---

_Raph didn't know how long he had been in this park, and he really didn't give a damn._

_Three years ago he had left his family and the city he was-- presumably, it wasn't like he had pet store records to check-- hatched in. Now he was here. Detroit. It didn't really matter._

_The last few... Weeks? Months? Years? They had been a blur._

_He had woken up several days ago in this exact same spot. Somehow, his disguise had held-- Leo and Sensei would have been proud-- and there were several dollars lying on top of his coat along with some sort of religious tract. He had looked like a bum, a passed out vagrant. Trash. So people had left him money out of pity._

_So of course he had acquired more booze with it._

_He wasn't even sure how he bought it, all he had known was that everything disappeared into blissful nothingness. No disappointed brothers, no silent ones, no angry ones. No father overlooking the scene with a hurt look on his face._

_Tonight, Raph had woken up with a gun next to him._

_He had no idea how it had gotten there._

_The ground below him wobbled, his head felt unbalanced upon his neck, and around him the scenery glared at him. The sickly yellow glow from atop the street lamps across the way seared perfect cigarette burns in the hazy July sky, highlighting the emptiness around him._

_Where had he gotten the gun? Dimly, he had remembered chasing off some guy who was harassing a group of dopey college kids over by the swing-set in this exact same park. Or one a whole lot like it. The ass had dropped his gun and Raph had picked it up, meaning to take it over to the police station. He was pretty sure he had left it there, in fact. So what was this thing?_

_Still loaded,' whispered the trees around him, beckoning with waving branches. '__Why don't you--?'_

_He wanted another drink._

_Fumbling with the screw-on cap of his bottle, Raph swore silently to himself. Were these things always so damn hard? The trees, joined by the bench across the way, laughed. '__Do you need help, or something?' they cackled, sitting sideways in his vision in a rather offensive way, '__You can't even open some hooch. __Were you really supposed to been a hero once? '_

_No', Raph wanted to inform them. He planned on doing so once they stopped moving around like that. He finally got the cap off and took a deep searing pull of his drink._

_He had never been a hero. It had just looked that way to some-- people like his brother Mikey. Leo had seen straight through it, of course. __He had seen the truth..._

_Raphael couldn't even save himself._

_It had been years now since he had left his home, and he had nothing. No one had talked to him in years. Food rarely graced his belly. No roof over his head. There was no goal to light the way before him and give him some sense of purpose--_

_No reason to live._

_Leo, Mikey, Donnie, Sensei... April and Casey, too... he wanted to talk to them so badly. Even if he wasn't sure he quite remembered how conversations went. Hell-- he watched a nearby bench do a half-hearted shimmy-- he could never do that sort of shit to begin with. That was more Mikey's thing._

_Thanks to the pity of those around him and his own ability to find change in even the darkest of gutters, he was often able to get enough coins together to make a phone call. There were a lot of pay phones around here. Some even still worked._

_Raph thought often about calling them. He just wanted to hear their voices again, to know they were all right and out there somewhere. Real._

_But every time he managed to slip his scavenged quarters into the machine and dial the half-remembered number to the Lair, he froze up. Couldn't do a freaking thing. He had tried again just the other day-- was it yesterday? The day before? He didn't remember anymore._

_He did, however, distinctly recall the way it felt-- The change falling into the machine with the dim ringing of funeral bells, the screaming of the dial-tone in his ears, and the brief surreal sound of his brother Donatello picking up he phone with a 'hello' and an offer to help him with all his connection problems._

_If only Raphael was a computer._

_He couldn't say a thing. He just listened-- jaw open and working but no damn sound coming out of his mouth-- for several minutes to his brother repeating his greeting and asking who was there, sounding more and more frustrated as he went along._

_Eventually, Donnie hung up with a loud sigh and Raph was left there at a rundown gas-station in one of the worst areas downtown, still holding the phone in one hand and shaking. The street spun around him madly, rolling its eyes._

_Wimp._

_He was safer, he reminded himself once more, being alone. It was better to be unlocatable, unfound because they __couldn't find him, not because they didn't __want him to be found. Hidden, he could dream that he'd be welcomed back with open arms. He could pretend that if he spoken up during that call, Donnie would have been happy to hear from him..._

_He wouldn't have to deal with the reality of what he had done._

_Or so he thought._

_Raph held the gun up, admiring its silky metal and smooth polish. He was a coward and he knew it. Couldn't even make one simple phone call back to his family without quivering in childish fear. He owed them a call, so why the hell couldn't he do it?_

_The weapon winked at him, beckoning him forward. Behind him, or within him, something began to beg._

_Please._

_Please._

_It'd be so easy. A squeeze and his family would be rid of the burden that bothered them for years. No overemotional hot-head. No murderous vigilante. No whining emo-kid. Nothing. Blissful peace._

_They deserved it._

_'You sick freak. Come on.' It whispered again, rubbing up against his thumb like a lonely tomcat. '__Are you afraid?' The gun wondered._

_"Don't you dare."_

_Startled, Raph turned to face the source of that voice-- he hadn't heard anyone approach and it didn't sound like the trees or the bench. For a moment, he saw nothing, then a vision flared before him, numbingly bright. One of his brothers-- he couldn't tell who, but he was achingly familiar. "Don't even think about--"_

_Then, wavering like distorted film, the figure crumbled out of sight, the cold sound of its voice melting into the humid breeze._

_Raphael lowered the gun, unaware before the hallucination assaulted him that it was up against his temple. It-- it couldn't have been real-- but still... he had seen __something._

_A huge green turtle, the same shade as the grass. Like he had grown out of the earth like some sort of plant._

_A huge green turtle._

_Just like him. He was a huge freakish monster-- the authorities tended to notice things like that. If he-- if he freed himself here in this park-- it'd be all over the news the second they found his body._

_If that happened, the others could be put at risk. Some scientist might muck around with his corpse-- and he really didn't care about that-- but if the guy wondered if he had a family out there somewhere went to go find them..._

_Raph had to get out of here first. Before he did anything else._

_The stop sign across the street nodded as Raph made his way across the sticky grass of the park. He would find a manhole, get back down to the sewers, where he belonged. Down there, he could handle this. He'd give the silvery promise he was carrying a deep kiss. How sweet, his first kiss._

_And the others wouldn't ever have to know. There would be no way for them to know. They would never see his disgusting body on the 5 o'clock news or written up in some scientific journal and know for sure. Uncertainty--_

_In uncertainty there was hope, and who the hell thought hope was bad? Surely not his family, they loved shit like that. Surely they'd agree-- sometimes it was just better to not know. Raph nodded to himself._

_Just then, a scream rudely interrupted his thoughts. Not being in that much a hurry, he decided to go check it out. One last hurrah before he went off to face the unknown and all. What better way to say goodbye to the world than to give the faces of some of its worse inhabitants a few love-taps to remember him by?_

_A few minutes later and he was surrounded by bodies once more, just like old times. All of them had shaved heads, dark leather, and switch-blades that were in their hands right before they got the brilliant idea to threaten a young couple just looking for a fun night out._

_The two young men they had assaulted had already fled for their lives once the huge drunken turtle made the scene. They would be safe, and hopefully would choose better routes back home in the future._

_As he wobbled his way from the scene, giving one of the punks a final kick just for laughs, he noticed something. Something that made him pause even has he had pried the heavy man-hole cover halfway up._

_There wasn't anyone else around._

_Other than the gang, the couple, and him, there wasn't a living soul within several blocks. The park was still-- dead silent, save for the whispering scenery._

_If Raph hadn't been there..._

_His eyes settled on the gun again, lying beside the inky crescent moon of the half-open cover. It glittered at him, as if once more asking a question. He thought about it._

_He was nothing, he knew that. It wasn't up for debate and hadn't been for years now. He was just an empty shell, that was what he allowed himself to degrade into._

_But maybe he wasn't completely useless._

_He gave the silvery weapon at his feet a kick, frowning when it didn't travel as far as he thought it should. Three years ago it would have easily cleared fifteen feet. The gun discharged as it landed, narrowly missing an elm, who abruptly stopped snickering. Raphael then dropped the nearly empty jug, a tense frown on his face._

_When the hell had he gotten __this out of shape? This was just sad, and wouldn't do at all. Not when he had a mission. Raph gave the dancing skyline something of a salute, decision made. This city full of people-- he'd save them or die trying. He had to._

_He wouldn't do it for honor or to train, he wasn't Hamato Raphael out with his brothers anymore. He wouldn't do it to respect a dead friend or to have something to do with his life in the absence of Leo-- he wasn't the heavily armored grand-standing Nightwatcher anymore, either._

_He was nothing, but he could still help. And would._

_It was all he had._

---

Plucking a piece of popcorn out of the bowl, Raph frowned. Slim was still at large, and he was -here- in this city. He had known the second he saw that news report, you could practically smell the stench of pervert the second the perky newscaster began listing off the locations the missing children were last seen in. A new city didn't mean his guy had to change his winning methods, apparently.

Years of searching and questioning punks, of sobbing mothers searching back alleys for their lost children, and years of anger and disgust-- soon it would be over. He'd nail that bastard, the only one in all these years that had eluded him. The worst piece of scum in the stagnant pond that was Detroit. He had an edge over the police here.

The only thing that made Raph nervous was his brothers' involvement. He knew he needed their help-- they had skills he didn't have and this thing was too important to leave to chance. Slim had to be stopped. Years of solo pursuit of the kidnapping ring hadn't worked, so it was time to try another way. Besides, it wasn't like he could say no to them.

But their methods were not his. That had been made clear as broken glass _that_ day.

Things-- Raph took another sip of his drink-- things hadn't been so bad lately. Not good, but also not as horrible as he had been dreading. After that initial thrill of panic and shock, things had settled down between everyone down here in the Lair into an uneasy fragile peace.

He didn't want to be the one to destroy that. Again.

Raph was pulled out of his train of thought by the sound of someone approaching-- someone light-footed, with a soft, steady gait. Right outside the entrance to this room, maybe ten feet away.

"My son?"

His father entered the kitchen, eyes lingering for the briefest of moments on Raph's cup. Splinter frowned, nose wrinkling. After an awkward pause, he gave his wayward child a proud smile. "You heard me approaching, did you not? Most impressive, Raphael."

Raph nodded, not quite certain himself that his hyper-alert state was a _good _thing. It had been more of necessity, and was just another thing that underscored how odd he was now. Hamato Raphael-- can't even relax in the damn closest thing he had to a home. Let's give him a hand, folks.

The mutant rat's dark eyes softened with concern. "Is sleep eluding you once more, my child?" Carefully, his father lowered himself down beside him, using the softest of the chairs at the table. The one Raph and his brothers had always left for his use since they were little.

"...Happens often." Raph shrugged, feeling embarrassed. That warm gaze before him feeling suddenly like a burning spot-light shining down at him. "'M used to it." He shrugged, looking away and back down at the table. Was this the same table that was here before? He almost recognized that one mark there near the edge-- it looked like one Leo's swords would leave if his older brother was using the table as a cutting surface for pizza at Mikey's request.

His father made a soft noise, shifting in his chair and laying his arm out on the table. It bordered Raph's own arm, so close that his fingertips almost touched the turtle's scarred knuckled hands. Hesitantly, Splinter leaned closer.

It was all Raph could do to not shudder, seeing in his mind's eye a sharp blade or cold gun in those furred hands.

"...Are you happy, my child?"

Raph swallowed. "I..."

With a gentle shake of his head, Splinter continued. "We-- your brothers and I-- please bear with us while we ourselves readjust. This situation is... unique for us. However..." He met Raph's eyes, and Raph's urge to dash out of the room suddenly melted away. "We are truly are trying our best. So again I must ask-- Are you content, Raphael? Is there anything else you are in need of?"

Raph almost snorted-- his eyes tracing over the clean room around him, the snack Mikey had left for him, and his father, sitting so close to him. "...I-- no." Awkwardly, he rubbed the back of his head. "...Feel pretty spoiled, 'ctually. 'M fine. It's not like I dese--"

Quickly, his father stood up, his hand settling on Raph's shoulder and eyes curiously frightened. "We are sorry if we are a bit..." The hand squeezed. "Overzealous." Splinter smiled up at Raph, giving the popcorn a proud nod. "We just wish for you to know that we are here."

Silently, Raph nodded. He focused his gaze on his cup, watching as condensation trickled down the side of it. Somehow, he felt frightened himself now. One wrong word, and he could wreck all of this.

Splinter seemed to understand. He just smiled one last time, his lingering hand finally moving away. "Goodnight, my son. I hope sleep is able to find you tonight."

Raph watched him go, wishing all the while he knew what to say to all of that. '_Thank you?'_ That'd just be, well, trite. He'd say '_Sorry_', but every time he tried, they just changed the subject on him or left the room. 'Course, he sorta understood that last part-- he didn't want them apologizing to _him _either.

At least he knew one thing-- that stilted conversation and his father's words just highlighted it for him again. His family didn't deserve to have any part of the filth he had been rolling in all these years. They were above that, not like him. When Slim was located and it was time for the end-game...

Well, for now he'd accept their help. The stakes were too high for him not to. But it would end with Raph alone. Just him and his quarry. He'd finish this, and then he'd come back and stay this time.

If they'd let him. 


	7. Fool Me Once

A/N: Tired of stressing and editing this one, so up it goes!

Thanks again to Winnychan, MTAngeli, and Aubretia, all who helped beta this and acted as wonderful sound-boards.

One more, like Mikey's chapter, the flashback in this was not written by me, but instead by the talented Aubretia. Just so you notice this: I DIDN'T WRITE THIS CHAPTER'S FLASHBACK.

Once more, I really hope everyone enjoys!

---

It wasn't like he wasn't _happy _to see Raph again.

It wasn't like that at all.

Donatello sneaked another look sideways at his newly-returned sibling, then quickly readjusted his vision back to where it belonged: his monitor. For what felt like the second week in a row, Don was again pouring over all available data on recent kidnappings in the area. He had it all, and all of it strewn over every single bit of furniture in his quarters-- newspaper clippings, graphs, CDs of interviews, charts, research papers-- not an inch was left clean or free of being of some sort of use.

Raph was currently seated at the edge of his bed, idly fingering his sai. He was silent, but so was Donnie himself, so it worked out just fine. Both were discreetly watching each other as well-- Donnie's gaze was only on the program he was using to compile all data on Slim and his supposed activities a quarter of the time, and Raph blatantly watched him each time the older turtle turned his back.

Raph had been observing all of them quite frequently as of late. Or rather, since his return several weeks before. There was no 'late' before that. Unless you were using that term to describe the timing of Raph's return, of course.

Half the time, their brothers didn't even notice it. The estranged turtle had gotten so stealthy lately that not only Leo but Master Splinter as well were impressed. It kept scaring the spit out of poor Mikey though-- His little brother kept turning around to find Raph there, causing him to shriek and almost have a heart attack.

Those times, there was a familiar upturning of the ends of the stoic turtle's mouth and the barest hint of glittering in his shadowed eyes. In fact, Raph almost seemed about ready to consider smiling.

Just a little.

Don didn't wonder why Raph chose to stay in the company of him of all people. He knew. Donatello was full and well aware of the rest of his family's attempts to convince his brother to stay. Those attempts were suffocating Raphael, who didn't seem to be on steady ground latel-- since his return. If ever that turtle was on any sort of solid surface to begin with.

He alone wasn't making any sort of silly forced attempts to be sociable with Raph. Didn't see the point. Don alone didn't glue his eyes to the back of his sibling's shell 24/7...

So ironically enough, Raph was most comfortable with him, his most reserved brother. The only one who saw the joy of his return colored and defined solely by the absence of any typical Raph-type strife, not true happiness. How could anyone be happy if they were just waiting for the other shoe to drop?

It was almost amusing. The reason for his difference in attitude, the reason that Raph stayed by his side, giving him the attention Leo and Mikey wanted so badly... it wasn't a good one.

Donnie was still bitter.

And it wasn't that he was the _only_ one still upset over Raph's extended absence. Oh no. It was more like he was the _most_ upset. The others-- they were still afraid to face their feelings. His family was still frightened of sending Raph away again... So they weren't being honest. Not with themselves, and not with Raphael either.

Don knew how he felt-- he was honestly angry, and he knew exactly why, too. All these years, and he had never quite managed to forget his role in Raph's departure.

When his father's eyes strayed to Raphael's door and the aged rat's features seemed to heave, then droop in an up swelling of emotion, Don felt it. Every time Mikey's laughter abruptly cut off as he turned to crack a joke to a brother that wasn't there anymore, Don knew exactly whose fault that was. Each time Leo worked out and trained to the point of sheer shaky exhaustion, his determination to be strong enough to protect his family overcoming his body's own limitations, Donatello's own body sagged with the shared burden.

For years, Raph's empty chair, sitting by itself in the corner of the room at parties and dinners, silently accused him, and he wondered if the others felt the same way. Was his family angry at him too, he had wondered, for being the straw that broke the camel's back? For being the one that had driven the emotional turtle out to his probable death?

Don was tired of suffering.

He had grown weary of waking up from horrific nightmares involving Raph's decomposing body _years_ ago. So yes, he was upset-- angry even-- and that wasn't going to change just because Raph had finally managed to drag his sorry behind home.

"So whatcha doin'?" half-whispered Raph, his eyes still on the glittering metal of his weapon. "You been usin' that one program f'awhile."

Startled-- Raph wasn't exactly known for speaking up without any prompting-- Donnie blinked and then carefully schooled his expression before he turned to face his brother. "It's... sort of a mapping program, Raph. The police use it." He pointed to a box in the upper-left corner of the screen. "You just input the data-- in this case, information you've given us, news reports, and what we've noticed in our own patrols-- cross reference it with a map and voila!" His voice must have raised during that last word, Raph suddenly twitched. "You have everything you need to detect a pattern. You find that, you find where your criminal will strike next..."

"And ya stop 'em." Raph seemed pleased at that, nodding once, quickly, and then looking away again.

Soon the room was bathed in silence once more.

---

"Nightwatcher victim dies today in hospital of brain hemorrhage; head smashed into 26 trashcans along 9th Street while being dragged from a motorcycle traveling over 30 miles an hour, and deposited in front of precinct. Suspect in double rape found dead today in front of his apartment with a concaved skull; witnesses point to the Nightwatcher-- forensics say wound was caused by the weights of the vigilante's manriki weapons. Convicted pedophile Luke Shien found dead in his home after three weeks of decomposition; neighbors place Nightwatcher in the neighborhood around estimated time of death… the list goes on," Donnie purred, standing again and shutting the book.

The entire room had gone strangely still, and became Donatello's open platform. "You know… I don't know what disturbs me more. That one of my little brothers committed these crimes-- or that the other one idolizes them."

The apples of Raph's cheeks lifted into an oddly feral expression of savage anger. Donnie ignored it, came nearer, got close to his brother's face.

"We've had little talks about fear before, haven't we? There are quite a few civilizations who do what you do, Raphael. People decapitate men and skewer the heads on pikes at the top of their castle gates, to ward away enemies. Warriors and soldiers wear necklaces of mementos from their victims-- tongues, toes, fingers, genitalia-- to strike dread into the hearts of their foes. I know how people like you think. And it's disgusting either way." Here he held up the book again, fanned the pages; Raphael didn't flinch. "But see, it's a brave new world. You don't need decapitated heads and strings of testicles, you've got it all right here-- newspapers and internet articles and TV news reports and airplane kiosks, and kids who think you're the greatest thing since Superman-- everyone wants to be like you."

He slammed the book shut again, and handed it to their father. Raphael was vividly seeing red.

"Everyone should wanna look out fer their neighborhood. No one else's gonna do it…"

---

Don's train of thought was again interrupted by one of his brothers, only this time it was Mikey-- who was peaking into Donnie's room, a gleeful smile on his face. "Hey guys? You up to playing cards with me n' Leo? We got popcorn, and..." his grin widened. "Leo's actually sharing his candy stash. Yes, _the_ candy stash! We also got tons of soda--"

"Mikey..."

The orchestra of the youngest turtle's voice took on a pleading note. "Just come join us, bros. Raph-- you can even pick the music. Leo won't mind."

There was a long pause, then, slowly, Raph unfurled himself from Donnie's bed and slinked over to Mikey's side muttering lowly under his breath about 'hoping Leo didn't mind losing either, and what music? He hated music.'

Then all 250 Watts of Mikey was abruptly turned upon Donnie. "Are you com--"

Don held a hand up. That little brother of his-- couldn't stand in a puddle and touch him, that was for sure. "Give me a few minutes. I'm almost done with this run, Mikey, and I'd hate to do it over again." Before his little brother had a chance to look even remotely crestfallen, he smiled. "Just start the first round without me-- _Don't _eat all the popcorn and tell Leo that there better not be money riding on this game. He still owes us dinner from the last time."

A few minutes-- and pouts and dumb jokes from Mikey-- later, Don was again alone in his room, aftershocks of Raph's gaze still sparking down his spine. Just him and his computer again, thank goodness.

Typing another command into his program-- that last search was a little _too _broad-- Don frowned to himself, listening to the distant noise of his brothers beginning their poker game. He couldn't hear Raphael.

Don was still angry, yes--years of guilt and fear were not so easily forgiven--but it wasn't like he hated Raph. Not at all. When Leo had come back to the Lair the other week, a nervous-looking Raph on his heels and blinking in the sudden light, Donnie had felt nothing less than pure and complete absolution. He had been relieved, even happy, and honestly did remain so to this day.

Raph had been deceased-- dead to all of them, it had been the only way to keep their sanity and forgive themselves. Now he was back, arisen like Lazarus from his grave. It was nothing less than a complete miracle, Raph's renewed presence in their lives.

They were lucky.

All the same though, Don considered himself a pretty sane and together sort of person... and sane and together individuals did not like to be in pain. It was sort of a little quirk they all had. Raph had hurt him in the past, had been torturing him for years. Empty chairs and rooms and all.

It was only a matter of time before Raph hurt him and left them all again. And who knew if he'd come back next time? Lately-- Lately Don had been thinking. Maybe it was inevitable that Raph left in the first place. His younger brother was always somehow apart from the rest of them-- always so volatile and sensitive. God, the way he'd fight with Leo sometimes... Don was surprised he hadn't left leave sooner.

The rest of his family were setting themselves up for another fall with Raph-- he knew it, and he knew they knew it as well. He seemed to be the only one who was able to squint through the reflective brightness that was Raphael's return and throw up a protective hand- he was the only one who dared cast the needed shadow over recent events, the shadow that was needed to see clearly.

The rest were all grown up now. They'd have to make their own choices, just as Don made his. But it still hurt.

Don turned off his computer with a sigh, his work now done. He was ready to join the others now, could still hear Leo and Mikey making a ruckus in the living room. He stood up, listening to his joints pop and echo about his room. Then prepared to walk over to the rest.

He wouldn't trust Raph, he promised himself and not for the first time. Not this time. He knew better, he was smarter than that. He'd keep that in mind.

Maybe then-- maybe it wouldn't hurt as much when his brother inevitably left again.


	8. Speak of the Devil

A/N: I DID NOT WRITE ANY OF THIS CHAPTER! This chapter is the last of the flashbacks (and the biggest)Aubretia Lycaniahas kindly guest-written for me. Somehow, it seemed like angst was right up her alley. ;) Seriously though, I strongly urge you to go check out both her Trilogy of fics and Umi no Uta. If you like this, you'll love those! Just one more time for the record: I DID NOT WRITE THIS. And thank you so much, Aub!

Huge thanks and hugs also to Taiven, Tristripe, WhoreofTortuga, Rockpaperscissor, Sambev, Alora05, and Quietone. The reviews were very motivating! Sorry to make you wait so long for this chapter, and I will be responding to each of your reviews very soon! It's just been crazy for me lately and I fell behind again. Oh and Tri? OMG you've reviewed every chapter! Can I like, do a drabble for you sometime?

And now, the tired and stressed Kyt must sleeeeeeep... The next chapter will be up as soon as possible. My sister is visiting from out of town later this week and I expect to be very busy with that and my upcoming move and won't have much of a chance to get real writing done. Gomen!

----

_Speak of the devil._

_The idiom took on new and much more dimensional meaning when Raphael burst into his home, on Leo's proverbial heels. He found his brothers, Donatello and Michelangelo, crowded in front of their sensei's door, and heard Leo's voice go suddenly quiet from within, when the lair door slammed behind its entrant-- Donnie and Mikey both turned, swiftly, to gaze at Raphael as he all but fell down the stairs towards them, gasping for breath. Whatever they'd been hearing, it was about him. Their faces wrote the fact a thousand times over. It oozed from their reptilian pores._

_They seemed too shocked to react to him, but under any other circumstances, Raphael would have expected it. He never considered the day when his family might find out he was a vigilante, but it most assuredly didn't look like this, no matter what corner of his limited creativity he chose to look it. He had dashed after Leo with all the breakneck speed he could muster; still, weighed down by nearly a hundred pounds of leather and armor and defeat—the defeat of his lifetime, final and desperate-- Leo outstripped him by several blocks. That in itself meant another defeat. The news, the fact of Raphael's identity, now belonged to his smug, do-good older brother and nothing other than a time machine could stop it. He was fatigued and beaten and he wanted to disappear into his bed and forget any of it had ever happened. The look on Donatello's face told him that wouldn't be possible. He was in for the long haul._

_Neither Donnie or Mikey said anything, as Master Splinter, followed closely by their eldest brother, emerged from the dojo, leaning severely on his walking stick, in the manner than whispered of a weapon, hidden within his aged limp._

_"M-- Master. I can explain--"_

_"I highly doubt that," his sensei said, in a low, stern voice; it frightened Raphael, but assured him as well; his father had himself under control, not a demon of anger, but a pillar of justice, and it made Raphael fall silent. "Kneel."_

_Raphael did as he was bid, his knees shaking, and Leo watched as their father approached his little brother. Seldom has he ever seen his brother so out of control, nor had he ever feared that he might be beaten by one of his siblings; of course, he had never before engaged in real combat with any of his siblings, and had never expected to. He and Raph had exchanged terrible words before, and a couple fists, but martial arts prowess and weapons had bee confined to the safe world of tatami mats and their father's gentle overseeing._

_Then again, it wasn't as though Raphael hadn't given him a choice. He could have chose not to walk away, and some part of his mind—the place that new faith—didn't believe Raph would have come at him unarmed. Raphael wanted to defeat him. He wanted to prove something, and Leo only wished he could understand what that was. He had chosen to pursue, to taunt the vigilante because he reminded him of his hothead brother-- and Leo, even the great and powerful Leonardo-- could be angry, could want to get even with that constant, annoying voice that wormed up underneath his skin. He said he was better and he'd proven it; and like the good son, he'd come back and informed their sensei. Some other voice, some nagging little voice, began to whisper that maybe he should have taken a closer look._

_No taking it back. He'd need a time machine. Raphael was home—speak of the devil._

_"Raphael… you have raised arms against your own brother outside the dojo, in anger. The fact that you returned home to face me rather than run speaks for you… but I cannot conceal my disappointment. You have placed your brother-- as well as this family—in very grave danger. I fear… I truly do not know what I can say to you, to make you understand."_

_Raph looked up, blinking; he had never encountered his father at a loss for words and it suddenly sent shivers of fear down his spine._

_"Let me explain… about the Nightwatcher, at least… please," Raph said, staring at the floor._

_Mikey had come closer to him; his blue eyes wide, swallowing the vision of this headless Nightwatcher, this kneeling, impotent hero. It was the armor, so familiar and yet so foreign, his brother's head, like a skull of fire in the hand of the Horseman, floating on top, out of place in the animated metal._

_"Raph-- dude, you really the Nightwatcher, 'r were you just playin' a trick on Leo after all that smack he talked? Cuz if so, it was a real good one… except the whole… like… fight. At the end." Doubt flashed across Mikey's features, as Raph looked at him._

_"It's not a joke, Mikey… I, uh… um…"_

_"Raphael," Splinter cut in, bringing control back. "I ask that you apologize to Leonardo, for raising your weapons, and putting the pair of you in danger. Then we shall all talk about this."_

_Michelangelo watched as the small, ever-growing demon of pride smoked up behind Raphael's eyes._

_"Yeah," came Donnie's voice from behind him, startling everyone in the room. "And maybe while you're at it, you can apologize to me and Mikey for gallivanting around while we were working to support this family." His voice was oddly cold, edged with a chill anger. It was ice, and Raphael stood, blazing glory, a flame ready to sprint, sputter, and die._

_"I wasn't 'gallivantin' 'r whatever—an' I sure as hell won't apologize fer being the Nightwatcher, if that's whatcha want! At least I was doin' somethin'! I'm sorry I'm not cut out for fixin' mega computers 'r makin' people laugh. This's all I'm good at! I was tryin' to do somethin' good!"_

_Mikey swallowed. "Well-- ya coulda told us, if that's what you were doin'! Why be ashamed of it, dude? You coulda been shot 'r somethin'-- you dealt with some hefty criminals while you were out there, an' ya never had backup! Even I know that's stupid!"_

_Raph's rage turned on him, and softened. "'cuz I knew how Donnie'd react, Mikey--"_

_"Yeah, well, I ain't Donnie!" Mikey countered._

_"You're… you're jus' a kid, Mike… I didn't want you mixed up in…"_

_"I'm, like, a second younger'n you, doofus! I dealt with the Shredder. I went through everythin' you did almost, an' I'm not the one with crazy issues! And what-- you're so ashamed ya had to fight Leo too?! Why the hell were ya doin' any of it then?"_

_"Mikey… you keep your little scrapbook and you wish you were out there bustin' skulls… but you dunno the half of it. You ain't seen what I've seen now… or done what I've done. So don't try 'n tell me what I should be ashamed of! You're just some kid with a comic book hero, eatin' Twinkies an' playin' video games-- you're not out there, you don't understand!"_

_Mikey froze, staring at his older brother; he appeared stung. Leo opened his mouth to speak, but Donnie's voice stopped him. He was sitting on the back of the couch, with Mikey's scrapbook open in front of him, half encased in shadow._

_"Nightwatcher victim dies today in hospital of brain hemorrhage; head smashed into 26 trashcans along 9th Street while being dragged from motorcycle traveling over 30 miles an hour, and deposited in front of precinct. Suspect in double rape found dead today in front of his apartment with a concaved skull; witnesses point to the Nightwatcher-- forensics say wound was caused by the weights of the vigilante's manriki weapons. Convicted pedophile Luke Shien found dead in his home after three weeks of decomposition; neighbors place Nightwatcher in the neighborhood around estimated time of death… the list goes on," he purred, standing again and shutting the book. The entire room had gone strangely still, and became Donatello's open platform. "You know… I don't know what disturbs me more. That one of my little brothers committed these crimes-- or that the other one idolizes them."_

_The apples of Raph's cheeks lifted into an oddly feral expression of savage anger. Donnie ignored it, came nearer, got close to his brother's face._

_"We've had little talks about fear before, haven't we? There are quite a few civilizations who do what you do, Raphael. People decapitate men and skewer the heads on pikes at the top of their castle gates, to ward away enemies. Warriors and soldiers wear necklaces of mementos from their victims-- tongues, toes, fingers, genitalia—to strike dread into the hearts of their foes. I know how people like you think. And it's disgusting either way." Here he held up the book again, fanned the pages; Raphael didn't flinch. "But see, it's a brave new world. You don't need decapitated heads and strings of testicles, you've got it all right here—newspapers and internet articles and TV news reports and airplane kiosks, and kids who think you're the greatest thing since Superman-- everyone wants to be like you."_

_He slammed the book shut again, and handed it to their father. Raphael was vividly seeing red._

_"Everyone should wanna look out fer their neighborhood. No one else's gonna do it…"_

_Donnie laughed-- a high, bitter laugh. "And you'll teach them how? You're not exactly original. Did you know in Arabia, they used to cut off people's hands for stealing food? Caught with a loaf of bread, just lop off an appendage or two! One thing's for sure—they'll never do it again, will they? How poetic of you…"_

_Raph burst. "You dunno SHIT about what goes on up there-- stop being a goddamn know-it-all an' accept maybe I know more 'bout somethin' than the World Genius Donatello! Or you pissed cuz all this shit went down on your watch?"_

_"Oooh, you think it's just about our family, Raphael-- you're wrong! You don't realize how easily we could've been exposed-- how hard it was for our family with you and Leo both gone-- you spent a year-and-a-half acting irresponsible instead of helping me out, and the worst of it… the worst of it is you were out killing people. And I don't really want to know more about that than you!"_

_Raphael had backed into the stairs by this point, his face disbelieving, Donatello walking forward, toe-to-toe._

_Leo remained silent… in his time around the world, he had found it necessary to kill, and he knew Donatello didn't understand this matter. He would speak to Raphael later-- his brother was already backed into a corner and getting defensive. Another voice wouldn't help him. He gazed at Mikey._

_Michelangelo was the picture of confusion, though Raph's eyes were flickering to him for help. He backed away._

_"Dude… you killed a buncha people… I mean, what about Leo? What… what if you'd won?"_

_Splinter, during this, had been calmly looking through the scrapbook, his ears flat against his head, occasionally closing his eyes. He appeared… disturbed, and saddened. And so Raphael was left to Donatello, and vice versa._

_"Mikey-- it's not like that! Sometimes… I dunno, the world is ten shades a' fucked up, an' ya got no choice--"_

_Mikey flared into life. "You always got a choice! Leo coulda died tonight-- an' what about you? I mean, how many times you get injured an' never called us? How the hell're we supposed to un'erstand if you don't tell us what yer doin'?"_

_"I didn't wanna deal with naggin' Nelly over here tryin' to tell me WHO I am and how to live my LIFE!" Raphael countered, striking Mike dumb. He turned back to Donnie. "You sit down here all day in that alcove a' yours-- you dunno shit about th' world, or 'bout me or why I do what I do! Must be real nice to lecture me! I bet it feels good, cuz I ain't been fittin' inta Donatello's model of 'focus on yer work' an' forget about everyone else! What's the hell's the fuckin' point?!"_

_"THE POINT is that you have no goddamn business changing the human world on your own, especially if you're going to kill people, Raphael! This family should be your FIRST priority--"_

_"This FAMILY doesn't seem to really exist without Leo, or had you forgotten--"_

_"I'm more than capable of keeping this family together, Raphael"—_

_"Oh yeah? Didn't look like it, Mr. Second-in-Command--"_

_"You're such a petulant child, I don't know why I didn't see it earlier, you Neanderthal, prehistoric, sick, violent little--"_

_"SCREW YOU!"_

_Mikey shrunk; if Donnie and Raph yelled at each other from any closer, their skins would melt together. Raphael had yelled with such force that Donatello took a step backwards; he was not the type for confrontations and had never done well against Raph before this. Raphael was gazing around, like a trapped animal, looking for a way out, but his eyes fell on his family members. Splinter gazing silently at the articles, at pictures of his son in the world of light, riding the shadows between worlds; at Mikey, gasping in confusion, flashes of distaste and compassion flitting clumsily over his face, too afraid to interject between his older siblings; and Leo, watching silently, with a strange expression that Raphael couldn't read. As though he was leaving the situation alone, waiting. When Raph spoke, he was really speaking to Leo._

_"I'm not gonna apologize fer who I am-- they're my decisions, an' anyone gettin' in to control me'll get the same, whether they think they're better'n me or not!"_

_"Your bad decisions affect us, Raphael!" Donnie returned; he had lost quite a bit of control over himself, and looked rather close to tears. Splinter held up an arm, holding Donatello back with a gesture._

_"I am not asking you to apologize for who you are, Raphael-- only for what you've done."_

_Raph held out his arms, showing them the armor, and himself. "This is who I am! What I did in this suit—it's me, it's all I am now!"_

_Splinter's remained filled with sadness and compassion; he opened the scrapbook. "I know that is not true, my son. The things in this volume-- these pictures and stories-- that casing of armor-- none of it is my son. It hides him from me, and attempts to steal him away. But it is not you. Do not resign yourself to this darkness of yours."_

_Raphael frowned; his eyes fell again on Leo, and hung there. "Funny how I get lectured on abandonin' this family… and now I gotta apologize to you of all people… even after you abandoned me."_

_Leo swallowed, but kept his mouth shut._

_"But I ain't gonna do it. I won't grovel t' a brother who thinks he can tell me what to do because he thinks he's better'n me. And what, Leo—ya beat me up there, so ya think I'll follow ya now like my General 'r somethin'?"_

_Leo did not answer, but their father did. "Watch your wounded pride, Raphael-- it prevents you from seeing this situation clearly."_

_"Sometimes pride's all a person's got," Raphael returned, clenching his teeth._

_"You have us, Raphael."_

_"Not like he cares," Donnie pointed out, his hands turned to a pair of fists at his sides. "He thinks he can do whatever he wants-- put us in danger, threaten our brother, kill anyone he likes--"_

_"YOUR brother? He's my brother too, Don--"_

_"Brothers don't draw their weapons against each other, or betray everything they stand for, or risk everything we have, which isn't much!"_

_Raphael growled. "Takes two t' tango, Donnie! I ain't done nothin' that Leo ain't done himself-- but the good son gets away with everythin', right? Or… or should I say, the better son?" Hatred sprung up in his eyes, and Leo shrunk back-- but when he looked, he saw the hatred only gazed inward, and a wash of pity came over him like a tide._

_"Raph-- you don't understand--"_

_You abandoned me._

_The words hung between them suddenly, and Leo's mouth fell silent. He would regret his silence for the rest of his life._

_Cold eyes, the center of a white-hot fire, fell on Donatello. "What d'ya want me t'do, Don? Me an' my rogue attitude an' all?"_

_Donnie considered him for a moment, then flicked the armor. "I want you stop being this obtrusive monster, and grow up. That's what I want, Raphael."_

_Raphael laughed, low and mirthless and terrifying. "You want me t' grow up? You're the one who needs a taste a' real life, Donnie. You don't know nothin' about the world an' what it can take away from ya. You stand there an' judge me, but you've got no idea how hard it is to watch the same goddamn rapists get off on technicalities, again an' again-- watch guys lookin' a' kids on playgrounds, follow 'em in their vans—an' the system don't work cuz no one gives a shit no more"—_

_"Anymore," Donnie corrected, dryly; Leo and Mikey both drew in their breath sharply._

_"Donatello!" Splinter hissed, but Donnie's eyes had clouded, and he looked away._

_"Why should I care, Master? He hasn't a shred of faith in anything anymore—he doesn't care about us, and he'll always put us in danger until he learns."_

_Raph, who seemed to have stopped breathing, nodded slowly. "I guess we finally agree 'n somethin', Don." He backed up, his feet upon the stairs. "I'm leaving. An'… an' I'm not comin' back."_

_Donnie crossed his arms; Raphael had said the same words once a year since he was eight. "Fine, whatever-- don't let the door hit you on the way out. I have enough repairs to make."_

_Raphael was watching Leo again, something unfathomable in his eyes; later, Leo would know Raph had been asking him to speak, but he said nothing. This was his brothers' argument now, beyond him and his control. They had let it build in his absence, and it had been a lifetime coming—even their father seemed to sense it. Lava and ice caps coexisting, with intermittent layers of bedrock and sea; when he removed the layers, and the two came together, the world experienced a meltdown. Like physics these things could only be delayed-- opposites counter and cancel out, leaving a gaping void._

_"What, dude-- you're just gonna leave us again? After bein' pissed at Leo fer the same thing, you're gonna do it too?" Mikey asked, incredulous—he too expected Raphael would return before a week was out, if not by the next morning. Then again, Raph and Donnie had never blown up before. He had never seen his brothers at critical mass, but it was a thing of inevitability._

_Raphael ignored him; his eyes were on their eldest brother, and perhaps Splinter sensed what Leo did not._

_"Leonardo-- your brother is in need of your guidance."_

_"I… I don't need him," Raph cut in. "Somethin' he'll never un'erstand." Raph backed up the steps when Leo retained his silence, both of them choked. "There's… there's a difference, between needin' someone around, an' wantin' 'em around. I'm… I'm gettin' the hell outta here."_

_"Raphael…" Splinter warned, taking a step after him._

_Raph sent a look at Donnie. "I'm sorry, Father."_

_Splinter held Mikey back; like smoke, Raphael was gone, leaving behind him a ringing silence moving from Leo and expanding outward._

_Only Donatello didn't appear worried._

_"The homing pigeon'll be back, don't worry. I give him a day."_

_"Donatello-- I understand your feelings, but I would hope I have taught you compassion by now."_

_"I've used up all the compassion I can spare on him, sensei! I told you I'd pack his bags if you ever decided to send him off, and he's done the job beautifully. Give us a nice break from the Raphael Rollercoaster."_

_"Donatello!"_

_But Donnie too had disappeared, into the darkness of his labs and the glare of surveillance monitors, leaving father, oldest, and youngest staring at the place where their family members had been, had exploded, and had evaporated like mist._

_On his monitors, Donatello watched a quick, small figure only he knew flit away from their home, ghost onto the streets, and several minutes later finally move too far for his electronic eyes to follow. A small frown appeared between his eyes._

_He was the last to see Raphael._

_Donatello couldn't place a title on the emotion he felt when the figure was gone… it was an emptiness without a name.  
_


	9. Groceries and a Talk

A/N: I'm sorry this is so horribly late! Some RL stuff (including a move and a sister visiting from out of town) and writer's block really kept me down and out for a while. Hopefully the next chapter will not take nearly as long! Thank you so much for your patience!

Thanks again to Aubrey, who helped beta this and gave me some great feedback! Also thanks to Winny, who gave me some awesome advice when I was writing this. You guys rox my sox!

---

April Jones offloaded the bags of groceries onto the turtles' kitchen counter with a somewhat exaggerated sigh. That had been exhausting-- even when she parked the truck right next to the closest manhole, it was still a good ten minute trip down to the Lair-- one that wasn't exactly fun when your arms were weighed down with several bags of food. And that wasn't even taking into account the two short jumps the journey required or climbing down those ladders.

She supposed she should have called them beforehand. The guys were always very willing to help her carry things down, especially since she was doing them a favor in the first place. Not that she or Casey minded doing the guys' shopping for them.

...But April had felt like challenging herself today. Proving that the years, marriage, and a child hadn't made her all _that _old. She knew she'd be regretting this tomorrow morning, but if the price of pride was a few minor aches, well... she'd gladly pay it. Anything to feel young and independent again.

"Hey, guys?" She called out, straightening one of the sacks. It had seemed about ready to topple over and there were apples in there. Bruised produce was just gross, and a waste of good money too.

There was no reply.

Pausing momentarily to give all three bags another gentle push-- moving them closer to the wall-- April smiled to herself. There were three bags today. _Three._ She had been running this particular errand for her friends for over eleven years now-- years spent perfecting this chore and getting used to their-- admittedly sometimes odd-- tastes.

Like Leo's insistence on fresh fruit and veggies, rice, whatever fish was in season, and pickles-- tastes he shared with his rodent father.

Splinter himself showed an additional weakness for dairy products of all kinds, particularly wax-bound cheeses and brie for a rare treat. That had seemed amusing to her at first-- how stereotypical! Now she was used to it and couldn't recall why it seemed funny in the first place.

Donnie was easy enough to buy for. He had a distracted fondness for whatever he could prepare in a microwave in less than five minutes. The brainy turtle hated to be pulled away from his work and never seemed to taste what he was eating when immersed in a project, anyways. Though Mikey had once proven-- to appreciative giggles from everyone-- that Don would notice if say, a little bit of salt somehow got into his beloved coffee. So for him, every couple of weeks, a new bag of coffee in whatever different flavor April could find, as it was one of the few things he _did_ taste.

As for Mikey, well, he had a strange adulation for foods both junky-- his ability to put away the chips, sodas, and any sort of candy was legendary-- as well as gourmet and difficult to prepare, too. He could just as easily whip up a roast or braise a chicken in ways that made Julia Child look like a piker as open up a bag of some junk and be happy munching on that all night.

April had fiddled with the grocery shopping unceasingly during those years, her eyes on what was and wasn't used and how often... and her mind on what was the most reasonable and worth it. She didn't want to do more than a couple grocery runs a week, and-- unless she managed to snag one of the guys and had him waiting at a rendezvous point-- she was limited in the number of bags she could carry. Finally, her hard work had paid off: April had managed to cut the total amount of bought goods each week to a simple two large brown bags. And she had been right too-- Two bags were more than enough for Splinter, Leo, Don, and Mikey.

She was still rather proud about that.

Now there was a third bag, this one admittedly much smaller-- and a fourth brother to go along with it. For Raph, she had bought additional meats and starches-- like her husband, Raphael was a real 'meat and potatoes' sort of guy. In addition, she obtained some extras to go along with those basics. Her friend-- unlike his brothers-- had always loved spicy and flavorful foodstuffs, so she made sure he had plenty of hot and salty things. She also grabbed some frozen Mexican foods as well; he loved those almost as much as pizza and she recalled Leo griping about once.

Raphael had been back for over a month now, and each day she grew more and more confident that this unexpected and amazing status quo would be maintained. All of them-- with a single possible exception, but at least he was keeping the peace-- were trying very hard. Even Don was trying in his own particular way, that much was obvious-- he hadn't said a single emotional thing to Raph since his brother's return and was nothing but polite to boot.

One could only tell he was upset from how he wouldn't look directly at Raph, the way his fingers would nervously intertwine together whenever anyone mentioned the moody turtle, or the strange flat line of his mouth when he discussed Raphael or the guy they were helping Raph hunt down. Anyone else would take Don's careful distance as respect, but she and others knew Donnie well enough to wonder. They understood too-- all of them remembered how rough the last decade had been on him... that horrible guilty light that would dim his eyes with alarming regularity.

All of that was irrelevant though, for no matter how stressful and awkward it got, not just for Donnie, but for all of them-- it was all worth it in the end. She was certain even Don would agree, if he pulled himself out of that morass of fear and guilt. In any case, if stabbing joints were the admittance fee for continued pride, then some uneasiness was a pretty darn good bargain for what everyone was gaining in this situation. Indeed, every single thing in the world would be a true pittance in the face of reunited family. It was not even worth comparing.

Besides, she thought, fondly, it wouldn't be _Raph_ if it wasn't even the slightest bit difficult. The temperamental turtle was just like that.

"Is anyone here?" April asked again, this time more loudly. Splinter was usually resting around this time, and she certainly didn't want to disturb the aged rat-- but surely, one of the guys was around.

Some exploring was obviously in order. She snagged a snack out of the smallest bag-- something both tasty and healthy-- an organic vegan chocolate chip cookie from the grocery store. Raph had always-- despite his many protests-- loved chocolate. So hopefully, this cookie would satisfy his craving without further damaging his body.

From what Mikey said the last time she saw him, Raph had, in yet another odd change in character, not once left the Lair to date. At least not once that his family was aware of or caught him at. Mikey had also mentioned the mysteriously appearing and disappearing bottles of vodka that always seemed to be in the estranged turtle's possession, after all. To hear him talk about it, it was as though Raphael had an endless supply clinking around inside his shell-- he certainly seemed to have enough room in there nowadays, with no bothersome fat layers in the way.

Hence the treat. April would show him that things could be enjoyable and good for you too. She'd find Raph-- enlist his help in packing away the groceries-- and then make sure he ate something decent. The turtle looked like nothing more than muscle and desperate action now-- and that worried the heck out of her. Everyone needed _some_ fat on them, even mutant ninja turtles. Moreover, there wasn't a being in the world that didn't need some additional healthy food in their diet. 'There is nothing in the world so perfect it doesn't need some extra perfecting' her mother always said.

...God, now she was using her mother's clichés. She _was_ getting old.

April groaned, and then made her way to the vast central area of the Lair. Cartoons were still playing on the numerous televisions in the center of the room-- Mikey must have_ just_ stepped out. Leo, Donnie, or Splinter tended to turn the youngest turtle's shows off almost the second he left the room, the sole exception to that rule being when Shadow was visiting. Her daughter loved the same sorts of shows as Mikey but no one seemed to want to say no to _her_.

She heard a rustle coming from Don's narrow offshoot from the living room, the place he kept his computer and most of his work--in order to use the more spacious area to keep his equipment cool, he had once explained to her, a slight smile threatening to show.

"...Donnie?" Why wasn't he answering?

Nodding to herself, the human woman started to walk over to where she heard the noise. On her way, she glanced back down at the organic cookie she had purchased not even an hour before.

It did look pretty healthy. And the sales clerk assured her it was as appealing to the taste buds as it was to the intrinsic health of the body and mind. Goodness knew it wasn't that appealing to the wallet; she had never paid so much for a single treat in her entire life... You could get an entire bag of cookies for the same price this one cost.

But she didn't mind. It was worth it.

Now, April knew Mikey was an excellent cook-- much better than her, that was for sure... though she really loathed admitting it. Mikey's skills often led to far too much laughing and her husband mock proposing to the turtle each time Mikey made one of his roasts or steak. She also knew Mikey would do everything in his power to make sure his brother ate well and recovered his strength-- but she was also aware, via several hushed telephone conversations with Leonardo, of the horror stories of what Raph had been eating-- and drinking-- during his time away.

Therefore, the healthier stuff the better... there was a lot of damage to be undone. Plus Raph had as hard of a time saying 'no' to her as Mikey did to Raphael.

Even though she knew it annoyed him-- she couldn't help but spoil Raph-- and to try to help him. Not only was it in her nature, but…

Well, he had always been someone very important to her.

Back when she was a child, she used to pour over books all day long. Nothing-- other than the art books her father gave her-- gave her more joy than her thick well-worn volumes of fairy-tales. Sitting in the farmhouse attic, she'd often daydream of rescue from certain dullness and/or death via a brave armored knight. Together they'd join arms and right all the wrongs in the kingdom, impressing all around them with their stunning feats.

Looking back, she understood now that she had just wanted to feel special-- and to have some sort of happy future waiting for her. Even as a child, she understood that childhood dreams and freedoms rarely made it past puberty.

She wondered what Raphael dreamt of as a child.

Well, at the very least, she could now safely say that few had a more unique life than she did. April knew for certain that there was absolutely nothing in the world that even remotely resembled an assured future-- her and Casey's path to happiness had been paved with as many spiked traps as good intentions. Perhaps there were more of the former than the later, but it didn't matter-- they had won their happiness, Shadow and their friends at their side. And if it didn't work out at all like it had in those long-cherished stories, well then who gave a damn? April got what she wanted in the end.

As for her knight, well... He had saved her, that much was true. Not only were the foot ninja not known for messing around, but she was also pretty certain she would have stayed in that dead end job, letting Charles wuss out every time she even strayed close to something interesting or dangerous. So she had been saved, and indeed armor was involved...

It just happened to be only on her savior's _back._

Life was just never all that predictable, she supposed, grinning to herself as she made her way around the couches. As a young girl she might have known what she had wanted and suspected the existence of things she'd never have-- but she certainly hadn't comprehended all the variety and mysteries of the world. Like ninjas, mutant creatures, aliens... the list could go on and on.

In any case, and unlike many other hopeful people out there-- she got her rescue. And through him-- Raph-- she found her way to her future. Raphael had taken her back to the Lair, something his brothers would never have dared do, and there he introduced her to his family... who later became her family too.

If not for Raph, she wouldn't have met her husband, and wouldn't have her active and cheerful daughter waiting for her back home either. She wouldn't have her best friends-- Shadow's uncles. If not for all of them, her life would be painfully dull and pointless.

April owed Raphael so much.

This time she wanted to help save _him_.

---

_Leo snuck yet another still warm homemade brownie from the white china plate April had placed on her table several minutes prior. "Oh, sorry, April..." He swallowed quickly, now noticing her eyes on him. "...I know you didn't put these out so I could eat -all- of them." The turtle smiled, a bit sheepishly._

_She laughed. "I guess I'm just glad you still find my deserts worth eating... despite having Mikey at home and all." she assured him, grinning back. "And if you didn't eat everything, Casey and Shadow would... and well... you handle sweets better than they do."_

_Leo laughed. "...Mikey puts too much sugar in his sweets. I mean, they are good, but, well..." He pushed the plate away, slowly. "...I don't like my stuff that sweet."_

_April watched as he finished his last brownie, distantly wondering if it was that Mikey over-sweetened or she under-sweetened. They each had their cooking quirks, after all._

_"Thanks again." said Leonardo, suddenly looking uneasy. "Not for the brownies, I mean… though they –were- good... But I came here to, you know, talk."_

_That look was familiar. -Raphael-. It had to be-- Leo and Mikey always got that expression on their faces when they worked up the nerve to talk about him. Only now it wasn't quite as bleak as it had been prior to three weeks ago._

_She placed her hand over his, noting the smooth skin and slight tremor. "You know I'm always here if you guys need me. -Whenever-." She said firmly. Now feeling a bit worried herself, she glanced over at the plate-- wondering if it'd be appropriate to stand up and put it away now, before Casey and Shadow noticed the treats. It was never a good idea to sugar them up, and she knew Leo would start feeling awkward about this almost any second now. He hated looking weak._

_"...This is about the research you wanted me to do, right?"_

_Leo was already pulling away, and in the bright lighting of her kitchen, she could almost swear she saw traces of a flush under his green flesh. "Yes..." The word was drawn out, hesitant. "...I really don't... know a lot about how people feel. Or react. This whole thing started in the first place because I--" He suddenly halted, rubbing the back of his head in a self-conscious fashion._

_April had to resist the urge to take his hand again. "Leo..."_

_But the turtle merely held a hand up, as if he could somehow wave away her concerns. When he spoke again, his voice once more had that in-control and slightly distant lilt to it, one that she had come to associate with her friend over the years. "Some of the ways Raph's been acting seem familiar to me. I knew I'd heard about it before, about soldiers returning from war zones or police who'd been on the beat too long..."_

_"So you asked me to look into it." She nodded. "...But why me? Wouldn't Donnie be the better choice?" Unsaid was 'Why didn't you look it up on the Internet yourself?' Everyone knew Leo was slightly technophobic and horrible with computers to boot. Don didn't even let his older brother near even his crummiest laptop, not after that incident with the Dr. Pepper and those ranch Pringles._

_Leo sighed. "Don's been preoccupied helping out with the research we're doing for Raph-- he's already put some of his own things on hold. It wouldn't be fair to ask, and well..." He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "...It'd be sort of awkward asking him about it, anyways. You know how he feels."_

_She did._

_From her living room came a sudden loud noise-- girlish shrieks and giggles, and a deeper rumbling laugh-- it sounded like Casey was tickling Shadow again. She'd know that sound anywhere-- it was their favorite game. Much to their neighbors' distress, April was certain._

_She and Leonardo both listened to the happy sound for a long moment, relishing in the distraction and sudden break in tension._

_"...I'm afraid I wasn't able to get as much information as I hoped." admitted April regretfully. "There were some similarities, of course. Living in a high-stress survival and combat situation for a prolonged period of time... having difficulties readjusting... his strange behavior since he's come back."_

_Leo winced. "I've never seen anyone act that jumpy. And if you get more than two people into the room with him or get too close..." he shuddered, shifting in his chair, "...not a happy camper. To say the least."_

_"The good news is," she gave her friend a weak smile, "I don't think it's the worst case scenario you were thinking about. Not Post Traumatic Stress. He could be... depressed, and obviously stressed." She rapped her fingers idly against the table. "And of course it's a big change for both him and you guys. He's been alone for a... a long time. You said he tended to talk to himself often?"_

_The turtle nodded, looking pensive. "...It'd be funny if it wasn't so damn -creepy-. It's bad enough the way Raph hides all day, and how... blank... he's been acting. It's not like hi-- the way he was, I mean. He was always so emotional, for better or for worse." He quickly looked away, studying the yellow clock over her sink. Finally Leo added, almost as an afterthought "...So, the bad news?"_

_"The best treatment you guys have easy access to is time." April frowned, leaning forward so she could up her chin in her hands. She really wished she could do more-- could say more. "Trying to understand and talking are also great tools..."_

_"Except getting Raph to talk is like trying to squeeze water out of a stone."_

_"...That's true." She admitted. It was almost ironic. So much of Raphael had warped and shifted, but this one thing-- the thing that really needed to change-- had not only remained the same, but had gotten even worse over their separation. "Otherwise, what I saw suggested were things like therapy sessions, speaking to people with similar experiences, and finally medication."_

_Leo frowned. "You're right. We don't have easy access to those things... Damn it." He stood up. "This really is more of a Donnie thing. I had hoped there was at least -something- I could do..."_

_And now she did go to him, wrapping her arms around him in a quick careful hug. "You're trying, you care. That's the important thing." She pulled back. "...And I -do- think you're the only one who has a chance of understanding him."_

_His reply was a soft, half-whispered. "If he lets me."_

_"It'll turn out fine, Leo. Just you wai--"_

_"APRIL!"_

_"MOMMY!"_

_Two figures burst into the room, both covered in dripping brown paint. Which was getting all over her floor. Both Casey and Shadow were splattering said paint all over the room as they wildly gesticulated at her._

_"The top wouldn't come off of it and--"_

_"--Daddy said he'd get it and BOOM--"_

_"--Can you get some towels? And where's the paint remover--"_

_"--That was fun!"_

_Leo, the unsupportive jerk, started to laugh, taking a step back so he wouldn't get paint on his mask. "Oh my. You know, April, maybe I ought to--"_

_"Help me clean this up?" She rummaged around under her sink and quickly pulled out some dishtowels. "Very kind of you to offer, Leo." She shot him a wicked grin and tossed him a few towels, which he deftly caught. "Casey, Shadow, sweetie-- Stop moving! You're making it worse." This was already looking to be a very long and messy evening._

_How in the world had she had ended up with -two- children in her life?_

---

April blinked as she stuck her head into Donnie's lab and looked around. Don was nowhere to be seen. Instead, someone in the dead center of the room and looking at the door. Waiting.

She supposed he must have heard her coming. It'd be hard for the sneakiest of ninja to sneak up on Raphael nowadays, and she had been _shouting _a few minutes ago.

"There you are!" She smiled proudly, holding the cookie out to him. "Take your bribe and come help me with the groceries, please?"

For a moment, the turtle stared at the treat, apparently confused. Then slowly-- like he was afraid it'd bite him-- he reached up and took the cookie. He didn't give it a second look go, his eyes were darting around the room. Nervously.

She maintained the smile. Patience was the key here, she knew that. "So... the groceries?"

"Oh yeah... sure, April." Raph nodded, then seemed to notice what he was holding. "...I don' need this kinda stuff, tho'."

"Indulge me."

Together they walked back to the kitchen, and in the end she was able to convince him to take a couple of bites. He told her it 'wasn't bad' and took another chomp after that, which was a good sign. She knew he'd like it.

He just needed some time was all.


	10. Darkest Before Dawn

A/N: Oh I had such writer's block on this one. But, whew, it's finally posted. The fic is starting to enter it's end game and there are no more than 5 chapters left. Woot!

Thanks again to Aub for her beta work, Winny for her sound-boarding, and Tori for her support. I really couldn't have done it without you guys!

Please consider reviewing? It's precious life-blood to us desperate writer-types. :D Also, please don't kill me after finishing this chapter!

---

Alone again, Raphael Hamato tramped through dank sewer hallways in search of a certain manhole, ignoring the painfully familiar setting around him-- pallid disappointed ghosts of his childhood making horrified faces at him from within the moldy brick walls-- and the hot pounding of blood in his veins. He was here, right now, and he was doing this. Come hell or high water.

Yesterday had been a damn close call. Granted, April made more noise than a herd of Michelangelos, but it was still risky. If she had asked questions, had wondered why Raph was in Donnie's room while the owner himself wasn't present. Then, well--

He wouldn't be here right now. Probably.

Raph _had_ to do this, before his quarry moved on again. He was ready now-- armed with not only the maps Don had created and various article printouts he had also found in his brother's room, but sheer vicious determination as well. He'd find Slim's guy-- and then he would end this. The last-- and most vital-- bit of information had come in several mornings ago, courtesy of Casey's off-handed description of someone he had seen during a solitary patrol the night before. His old friend had been out there, trying to help with Raph's search.

Good ol' Casey. Raph really had missed him a lot.

On his patrol, the ex-vigilante had seen someone. Someone who stood out like a sore thumb. Long dark hair, an expensive suit, a watch that could purchase a mortgage in the right area... and an aura of moldy sleaze and scruffiness despite all of those things. It had rung a bell, well, several of them. Raph _knew_ that guy, had seen him before... hell, half of Detroit's underworld knew of Lou Giovanni.

He had been there that day.

---

_It had been the cries that caught his attention that amber-stained fall day-- shouts of despair and utter panic. It was only early evening, and Raph had been on his way to check his favorite dumpster for dinner before he headed off to the worst part of town to see which assholes were ready for a pounding into the dirt._

_"He always come back!" sobbed a dark-haired woman below him, tearing at her blue dress as she screamed at the bored-looking police officer before her. "Jose might be bad, but he come back! Missing! You find--"_

_The cop yawned. "A runaway, lady. We get those all the time. Now when was the last time you saw--"_

_Raph tuned those voices out, shuddering briefly at the term 'runaway'. Something had caught the corner of his eye-- an overdressed man who was standing at the entrance to the alleyway below him, arms crossed and an interested expression on his face._

_A nice suit in a bad 'hood. It caught the eye like a fishhook._

_The guy must have noticed him as well, because suddenly he was smiling smugly-- tipping his hat in Raph's general direction and then walking away briskly. By then Raph's attention had already drawn back to the woman on the street._

_She had advanced on the cop now, shouting obscenities in English and Spanish even as she loudly insisted that her son wasn't the type to leave-- not for real. He was gone because of something bad-- horrible-- she had proclaimed, even as the cop pulled out a walkie-talkie to ask for backup. "Only sixteen!" the woman shouted, tears streaming down her face. "Been gone days! Please! Family needs--"_

_A sixteen-year-old, and this Jose kid's family had lost him._

_Something tickled at the corner of Raph's mind-- scratched and bit him. Maybe it was the chill breeze up on the roofs distracting him, making him numb and confused._

_For a second, he looked down at that lady-- and despite the fact that there was not even the smallest bit of resemblance, he thought he saw some trace of Mikey in her wide eyes. Or was it Leo?_

_...Leo, who had looked unbelievably shocked as he pinned Raph down on that sopping wet rooftop, red neon shining off his rain-soaked cheeks like unholy sweat. He had defeated Raph then, utterly and completely. And to this day Raphael still wondered about that look... Why? Wasn't his brother so assured of his win? Hadn't he said so?_

_Raph supposed he'd never know the answer. He tried not to think about that part._

_"Want him back! Find!" the woman was struggling now, arms flailing as the cop-- now joined by several others, wrestled her into the back of a cramped squad car. "Por favor--"_

_Raph winced, moving away from his hiding spot. He had heard enough, it was time to go._

_He didn't know it yet, not on that unseasonably bitter evening-- but his life was about to be graced with a new obsession. One stronger than his desire to meet and exceed Leo-- maybe even impress-- had ever been._

_Slim's guy._

_Children who lost their families-- or had their families lose them. The men who took those children away from their upset kin._

_Runaways. Kidnappers._

_Himself._

---

The search had been a lot harder than he had anticipated. It had been almost two years ago that Raphael started on his quest, and while he had many leads, he never got one that materialized into anything really helpful. At least not until one punk's terrified blubbering sent him back to this city.

Slim was, if nothing else, a professional. A businessman who did very well for himself by all accounts. He had many men-- well-trained ones too, not like Shredder's teenage goons or those stupid Purple Dragons. He had safe houses, strict rules, and, according to the rumors, quite a few men on the City Counsel in his pocket. He was ruthless too; the kid Raph got his tip from was most likely dead by now.

Raph himself might have been a trained ninja and obsessed, but he was lacking in resources too. He had nothing-- he was freaking homeless, even. Nor was Raph able to ignore the other crimes around him-- if someone was in trouble, Raph -had- to go over and help. That's what he did.

Only one of him. Only so many hours in the day. One impossible quest.

And so many crimes.

Thanks to the others, tonight it was finally going to end. By the morning, the streets would be slightly safer-- less families at risk of finding themselves torn in two. Raph was ready.

Slim's mistake was hiring someone as recognizable as Lou to find those kids. Lou's mistake was appearing at the scene of the crime a time or two. Their loss was Raph's-- and all those potential victims'-- gain. A name and a picture was all Raph needed for an address. Donnie's carefully marked map, with its scribbles in the margins about patterns, was all that he needed to interrupt them during collection time.

Following an ever worn path in those sickeningly familiar tunnels, Raph almost felt himself smile. He was not sure if it was the adrenaline-fueled heat boiling inside him or the knowledge that soon-- very soon-- he would be free again.

He had to do this alone. It was made clear years ago that his family could never understand. Hell, Raph was not sure he understood himself.

It was going to end tonight. The unnatural stillness that he-- and his family-- were trapped within was going to shatter. It-- it had to be for the best, there was no way things could continue like they had been for the past month or so.

This one last thing, then maybe--

Raph heard the sounds-- tense breathing, the shifting of a heavy body, the faint squelch of bare feat against a damp floor-- before he heard the voice. But even then, he didn't exactly feel prepared.

"Nice evening for a _walk_, I take it?"

At the icy sound of Don's voice, everything froze-- falling to the ground in shattered pieces.

'_Not this way!_' Something in Raph moaned, even as he tensed and fell into a ready stance. '_It wasn't supposed to happen until the morning!_'

"Donnie--"

His brother had caught up with him, mouth set in a thin angry line. "Of course, I really have to wonder why you took those papers out of my room for your _walk_."

There was a long pause as the other turtle looked away, and Raph waited, heart in his throat--

"You -honestly- thought you could rifle through the papers in my lab and I wouldn't notice?" Don suddenly shouted, whipping back around again. "There's a precise order to that chaos, Raphael! I knew _hours_ ago that you were going to lea-- no." He cut himself off abruptly, his features slowly shifting bleak and cold, as he corrected, "No. I've known it for _weeks_."

"I'll be back. In th' mornin' I'll--"

Don shook his head. "That's what we thought ten years ago," he said softly. "I-- I can't let you do this again." He raised his bo, moving in front of the ladder. "It'll destroy them."

Raph's shock was wearing off quickly, fast replaced with a mixture of anger and resignation. Of _course_ this had happened. Of _course_ his brother was pissed. Of _course_ it was never simple for them.

Of course it was Donnie. Again.

"...I jus' said I'll be back in the mornin'." He frowned. The strangest urge-- one to grit and grind his teeth-- tickling at the edge of his mind. How damn weird, he hadn't done that in _years_.

"...After you're done killing someone, yes."

"What..." Raph gaped. "What the hell? You all _knew_... I told ya the cops won' arrest him even if he was delivered wit' a pretty pink _bow_..."

Don nodded. "I know."

"Then..."

"It's that you're doing this again." His brother took a step backwards, shell hitting the front of the ladder with a loud 'clang'. "You didn't say a thing about the Nightwatcher stuff once you came back. The whole reason you left the first time, remember? So now you're just going to march off and repeat the whole thing verbatim?"

Raph shook his head. "...You know... 's well as I do no one lets me say a thing about that stuff."

"Maybe because they knew this day was coming too, then." muttered Donnie. "They wanted to draw out your visit. Delay the pain. Well, no matter..." He raised his bo. "I'm just going to ask once. Turn around and go back to the Lair before someone notices you're gone. Give us a few more weeks with you, at least."

Raph shook his head. "I-- I can't wait, Donnie."

He had to do this. Had to-- he couldn't wait any longer. Couldn't stop and _think_ about it. He had to go… -somewhere- where his brothers' eyes couldn't see him any more.

"I see." Donnie lowered his weapon. "I wish I could say something to the effect of 'I'll make you stay, then'. But you and I both know I wouldn't stand a chance, and I don't waste my time with--" His voice caught. "--things that won't happen." There was another pause. "Raph. _Please_."

"I'm sorry, Don." Raph swallowed. He couldn't think. He just had to _do_. One foot in front of the other and go. "Move."

Donnie did so, sending him one last pained look-- so sharp Raph was surprised he didn't start bleeding. Raphael himself put his hands on the sticky ladder, trying to force the horror he was feeling to leave. He needed a clear head for what he was about to do.

His brother's voice was soft. "...You aren't even going to say good-bye, are you?"

"It's not good-bye."

Raph then scrambled up the ladder, hoping to be gone before this conversation caught up with him.


	11. Brother

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I've been having some major problems lately.

Ah, HUGE thanks again to Aubrey for her beta-work. This chap needed it.

Sorry again! Hopefully this makes up for the lateness. :)

EDIT: Since there seems to be some confusion: No, this is far from the last chapter!

---

_'The past is a ghost that haunts the present.'_

His father's words echoed in Don's head as he waited in those lonely sewer corridors for a brother that would not return. Donnie knelt there, surrounded by the invisible casings of those ill-considered words he shot at Raph. Haunted. He was still haunted.

Raph had left him here in these dim tunnels hours ago. And-- the taste of ashen regret smoldering in his mouth-- Donnie still kept vigil. He knew it was to no avail-- Raph wouldn't be coming back. Donatello also knew he should be heading back to the Lair. There were things to do-- experiments to check, dinner to eat, and he promised Leo he'd watch a movie with him tonight.

But he couldn't bring himself to move, not just yet.

If he was out here and Raph gone at the same time-- they might think Raph was with him. His family would think they were together and all was well. That the dream was still alive. But if he returned without his brother, if he saw that look of understanding and despair in their eyes--

Don just didn't want them to understand the truth of the matter. It wasn't time for them to wake up yet.

Yet again he had chased his sibling off, breaking half a dozen unspoken rules. Yet again he was the last to see Raphael-- the back of his shell shrinking and obscured in darkness as it's owner walked away.

---

_Donatello once loved sitting by himself in these tunnels, when he was nine. It was the only place he could get some peace. He smiled down at his manuals and the bits of machinery scattered around his crossed legs. With time-- and hopefully this afternoon or the next-- all of this would become his very own remote-controlled car. He had seen one advertised on the back of one of his youngest brother's well-worn comic books and since then devoted almost every free waking moment he had to creating one._

_But he couldn't do it back home—his brothers were way too noisy and prone to knocking things over or scattering delicate parts. Separately Leo and Raph were quiet enough, each in their own way-- but together? Somehow they always became more loud then the sum of their parts. It had to break some laws of physics... Donnie kept meaning to research and test it one of these days._

_And Mikey?_

_Well there was never anything even remotely -like- a chance to get real work done when he was around. His youngest brother was like a hurricane crossbred with an earthquake-- a force of nature._

_Not that Don minded. Much. Usually._

_He just wanted to finish this project._

_"Hey Donnie."_

_Startled out of his musings by the sudden interruption, Donnie looked up. His brother Raph stood before him, looking down at the parts and his books with some interest._

_"Sensei says it's dinner time, so I gotta come get ya," explained Raph as he knelt down. "What's this stuff?"_

_"A car."_

_Raph gave him a look. "I seen cars. They're bigger than that. Like that yellow Camero I saw yesterday. There were five humans inside it."_

_Laughing, Don gestured for him to sit down as well. "Did you go topside again?" His brother stuck his tongue out at him. "...Well, -I- don't care. Just don't let Master or Leo catch you, it'll get noisy again. Anyways." Donnie gestured to the parts, noting with interest the fact that Raph's eyes actually followed his hand. He had his brother's attention. "It's a toy car. Like those matchbook ones you collect. Only this will -move-."_

_"Move? Really?!" Rapt, his younger brother leaned forward-- eyes sparkling in the smoky light that filtered in through grates from the world above. "You can do that?"_

_Still half-expecting the other turtle to leave, Don pushed the manual forward. "I found this. It shows what's inside a car... in this case, a Honda Civic. Not that it matters anyways." He pointed to the fuel tank. "Cars use gas as their power source, but I'm going to use a battery. Plus my parts are different. So I gotta adapt-- make changes to the design. It's not just shrinking things down, it's-- are you really interested in this?"_

_Raph nodded rapidly, and for a moment, Don was almost reminded of Mikey. "This is -cool-. Really freakin' cool. Norm'lly you're doin' boring stuff, but this is different." He pointed to the diagram. "What's this part here?"_

_Unbidden, a huge smile spread itself across Don's face. "Hose. And over here is the belt..." One of his brothers-- and -Raph- of all turtles-- was actually paying attention to what he was saying._

_It was a good feeling._

_"I'm thinking of trying to rig up some turbo boost as well. So it's faster."_

_Raph grinned and pumped his fist in the air. "Faster! You should. And make it black or red or something-- a kick-butt color."_

_Don laughed again. "You -would- say that." He picked up the manual and handed it to his brother. "Here. If you want to take a closer look."_

_The other turtle actually took it, and then spent several minutes thumbing through it, a curious look on his face. Don himself returned to prepping some of the parts while trying to think of where to get some black paint. Every so often Raph would ask him a quick question, nodding and considering when Donnie would answer._

_"You really do like cars, don't you?"_

_Raph scowled, but Don could see the traces of a flush on his cheeks, even in the dim light. "They're -okay-. Not bad. That's all!" He was still holding the manual. Tightly._

_Nodding, Donnie decided not to press the point. This peace was nice._

_"...So do they make these things for motorcycles?"_

_And that was the point when their father finally found them and took them both away for their overdue dinner and lecture._

---

"Hey, Donnie."

Donatello half-jumped as his gaze snapped to where that familiar voice had came from. There-- impossibly-- Raph stood in the shadows, a look of dark satisfaction on his tired face and his arms wrapped in crimson ribbons of blood. Gun-shot wounds, it looked like.

Shocked, he leapt up and rushed to his brother's side.

"I told you so." And with that, Raph slumped forward-- still conscious, fortunately. Donnie easily caught him, his mind racing. Tools-- he needed his-- where did he leave that medical kit of his? Those wounds did _not_ look clean, so he would have to remove the bullets. Then disinfect the wounds-- did he still have that needle and thread?

Was Raph really here, bleeding in his arms?

Carefully, Don removed his and Raph's masks. The important thing now would be to staunch the flow of blood with either strong pressure or a tourniquet. Then he'd get Raph home and in a sterile environment.

Suddenly a hand grabbed his wrist. Raph's. Don had the sudden irrational thought that those ribbons were about to entangle him as well. Trap him, and he wasn't certain what he should--

"I did it." Raph's voice was low, hoarse. "It's over now. Free." Haltingly he continued, while Donnie stood there numbly, the cloth in his hands forgotten. "Guy didn't ev'n react when he saw me. Same as th' first time. Cool as a cucumber 'r somethin'." He laughed, and it was a broken sound. "Guess someone in his... line a' work sees all kinds a shit. Worse than a giant freak turtle." Raph's eyes were haunted. "Those kids..."

Raph had probably killed that man. Don knew that-- it was the only thing that made sense, it fit with Raphael's previous actions and apparent motivations. Perhaps Raph had done it for closure of some weird sort, but perhaps it was rebellion too. A belated retort to those regretful words Donnie had said on a day that should be forgotten, and never would.

Maybe Raph's actions this night-- this rebellion-- _was_ Raph's closure. His brother had always defined his boundaries by pushing up against everyone else's.

Or maybe he didn't understand his brother at all Still, after a wealth of trails that should have lit a lantern into his sibling's spirit, but never did, else he was blind.

The fingers around his wrist dug in, and Raph was now looking up at him blearily, an expression Don couldn't quite place, painted on his features, a portrait of familiar chromes. "Monster. I'm... _can_ someone like... _me_… even go back?" Raph's glossy gaze locked onto Don's shocked one. "You _know_. You're... th' only one tha' didn' act like it was all hunky-dory. So you..." He trailed off--

--And then promptly began clinging to Don-- despite those wounds and rivulets of blood—as though onto a life preserver. "Please… Can I go home? I... I can't go back there. Not t' that park again." His grip tightened further, and Don noticed through the sudden haze of numbness, that Raphael's eyes had grown moist, and droplets dripped down from his jaw. He hadn't seen Raph cry in years-- not since being at the farm a lifetime ago. "…Alone."

Donatello's mind descended into a blur of frozen fire in that moment, trapped in an unending experience, a torrential river of burning emotions. He was shaking; he could feel himself trembling, staring at his brother as though he had never seen him before. Maybe he hadn't-- not since they were children.

Donnie opened his mouth, meaning to speak. To say: "OF COURSE you can come back, let's go!" Yet somehow he couldn't get the words out his mouth… nothing but a pitiful croaking noise. Raph looked at him, unsure, doubt invading his eyes. Don had to let him know it was okay, even if he couldn't get the words out.

In the end he simply wrapped an arm behind Raph's neck, and pulled him close. They sat there for several short minutes, both trying not to shake, clinging to each other amongst the dirty bricks, overgrown rats, and scummy water. Clinging for dear life in silence.

Don wasn't Leo. There were things in this wide and sometimes twisted world he had no chance of forgiving or understanding. He wasn't Mikey either, full of idealistic and sometimes irrational hopes for the future.

But he was Raphael's brother, nonetheless.

And it's a funny thing... not logical and rational at all. If he examined this feeling closer, Don was certain he'd find a several dozen holes he could poke through it. But he did know this-- he wanted something. Something lost between the time two young boys sat in these tunnels and talked about cars and this now, when Raphael bled in his arms, a killer, broken, lost, and derived of his innocence completely and violently.

He wanted to wake up tomorrow and have Raph there. And the day after that, and the day after that one too. Maybe it wouldn't last for forever, but he wanted it for as long as it could possibly go on. Don wanted to find out more about this changed person here with him-- to see if somewhere in there remained the desire to talk about fast-moving vehicles and plumbing. And if Raph had moved past such things, then Donnie wanted to know where he was now and meet him there.

Maybe understanding wasn't related to love, or love to understanding. It didn't need to be.

He just wanted his brother here, with him.

"We should go." He said softly, regretfully, and tugged at Raph's arm, gesturing for him to stand up. "Those aren't minor wounds, and there's the chance of toxic shock... and prolonged blood loss is no laughing matter either." He shouldn't have waited this long, no matter how .

"Toxic Shock, huh?" answered Raph muggily, after a long pause. "Think I had that once. Nasty." He let Don help him to his feet, leaning against the older turtle heavily.

Don smiled at him. "Let's go home."

And, exorcised at last, he and his brother made their way back to the Lair slowly.


	12. Roof Top Redux

Special thanks again to Winny chat for the motivation and for the beta-work. Thank you so much, sweetie!

EDIT: Please please review? I know this is my first chapter in a while and I'm feeling really insecure about it! TT

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**Rooftop Redux**

Leonardo took a deep breath as he paused on the rooftop and surveyed the scenery around him. Raph was only a building away from him, apparently also studying the way dusk fell over the city.

Before him, his younger brother sitting on a dingy roof, below him, cars sending up exhaust fumes as they honked at each other, around him blade-sharp glass buildings cutting into the bruised night sky...

_'This is certainly familiar._' he thought as he effortlessly leapt to the surface of the next building and to Raphael's side.

Almost as gut-wrenchingly familiar of a sight as the numerous bandages that covered Raph's green flesh. His younger brother-- all banged up after biting off more than he could chew-- and all by himself too.

Again.

It was only a few days ago that their family was thrown into shock and Raph again stood in the epicenter of the explosion. Only this time, startlingly enough, it was Donatello who stood by him-- who had gingerly helped his younger brother into the Lair and then spent hours stitching and bandaging Raph's wounds.

Bullet wounds. God, did Leo hate guns. They were unfair and without honor.

In any case, it didn't take long to figure out what did-- and didn't-- happen that night.

At least some good came out of the whole mess. Don had gotten off his high horse, and had not even just forgiven Raph, but now seemed very convinced-- from what Donatello had to say after the matter and from what Leo had heard from his youngest brother-- that Raphael was here to stay. For good this time.

But Donnie, as smart as he was, missed one key thing.

There was more than one way Raph could leave them.

_--_

_"What th--"_

_The heavily armed dark-haired thug before him didn't even get the chance to finish his sentence before Leonardo cleanly sliced open the artery on his neck with the blade in his left hand. In the icy air around them, it arced and then congeled before it even hit the deck of the ship. It was almost pretty, like little flowers of red were sprouting in the filth around them._

_Purity._

_Behind him, eerily calm in the face of the death around them, stood the vacant-eyed children. The would be slaves. One of them even had a splatter of red on one cheek, but seemed not to notice. The sight made Leo shudder, ever so slightly._

_Leo wasn't certain, but he rather suspected that this was what Raph went through when he 'lost it'._

_But there was no time to think about that. Especially about his family and what they'd make of him right now. What Sensei would say. There was no time to debate the morality of what he was doing beyond knowing that this, all of this, was -wrong-._

_Those children-- slaves. 'To adults' one had said-- they were in danger. A sick, sad danger that he wouldn't wish on anyone, especially children._

_Only he could protect them. With his life, and with each additional life he took. There was no other choice-- no backup, he was outnumbered, there were potential hostages right behind him. And..._

_Child-trafficking. That meant the big guns. And it was only a matter of time before someone -really- dangerous got wind of his presence here on the ship._

_He had to act, and he had to act fast._

_So he danced the forbidden dance of death, and around him the slavers fell like the disgusting vermin they were. To each and every man aboard the ship, he brought swift death, a kindness they barely deserved._

_Finally, he stood alone, save for those kids, on the ship. From head to foot, covered in blood, but he hardly cared, still panting from both his fight and the slowly growing realization of what he had just did._

_"Enugu!" one of the younger children stepped forward, a worshipful look in his eyes. "My lord, you have saved us."_

_"He killed them." nodded another child, this one a little girl in tatters._

_The children-- they had seen everything. Every blade he forced into a weak unarmored human body, every splash of blood and organs._

_And they thought he was some sort of god for it._

_For second, he was sure he was going to retch, but he swallowed, gathered his wits, and distracted himself by helping the children with their meager belongings._

_He would never do this again._

_It was over._

_It had to be done._

_--_

_Leonardo only had enough time to catch a glimpse of his own twisted reflection in the opaque rounded helmet beneath him before his defeated foe, in a swift and angry gesture, lifted up the headpiece, tossed it away, and thus revealed his true self._

_His younger brother Raphael stood up, flames dancing in his eyes._

_"It had to be done." gasped his brother through the pouring rain. "There wasn't anyone else around!"_

_'Had to be done...'_

--

"Nice night."

"Yeah." muttered Raph, leaning back far enough to look at the solitary star that broke through the humid air above them. "Nice."

Leo took the opportunity to study his brother's figure. Wounds-- and scars-- Everywhere, so many scars. Several of which looked like they could have killed him.

He wasn't going to let that happen. Not now, not ever.

A few weeks ago, he wouldn't have risked this conversation. Serious talks with Raph had been banned in the Lair by his family's unspoken agreement.

But now they weren't in the Lair. And it wasn't a few weeks ago. And every drop of blood that Raph had spilt on the floor of his home had solidified into crystal of resolve for Leo to do this.

If everyone kept walking on eggshells around Raph, nothing would ever happen. Not even the stuff that needed to happen. Especially that.

"I... never told you, Raph." He settled down next to the other turtle. "That night-- back then. I _understood_. I... I wasn't in the position to judge... people's actions. Not then. Not now."

Raphael didn't leave. Instead he shifted, his darkened eyes meeting Leo's with a questioning look.

Leaning forward, Leo took the final step, a wild leap of faith. "That's why I couldn't say anything... _then_. I was too caught up in my own hypocrisy. But--" He swallowed and took his brother's hand, distantly hoping it would keep Raph here in case he did try to bolt from this. "I'm sorry."

"Y' got nothin' to be sorry fer." muttered Raph, looking faintly embarrassed and pulling away his hand. "We've been over this, bro."

"You know I value justice, Raph."

There was a snort-- so much like the old Raph. "...It's all y' ever talk about, Leo."

He resisted the sudden urge to-- escape from this conversation. To give Raph the out he was obviously asking for and get into an argument with him. This was important.

"I'm not so naive that I think it can be bought without sacrificing something, though. Maybe even yourself." Unsheathing his sword, Leo studied it, almost certain for a moment that he could still see blood on the blade. "That's how you know it's worth something."

"I ain't that sorta person--"

Leo shook his head. "You are. Even if you don't believe it. I _know._ A lot... happened during my trip, Raph. More than any of you have heard about." He shifted in his spot, preparing himself. "Raph... Raphael." He leaned forward, his body settling into the familiar position of a bow. "Please... lay off the heroism for a while."

"What?!" Raph leapt up, and Leo was heartened to see some of that old fire in his eyes again. "Why?"

Standing up as well, Leo moved carefully and swiftly to his brother's side, laying a hand on one slightly stained bandage. "I know what you are thinking. But you aren't nothing to us, you hear?!" He shifted his grip to again take Raph's hand. "You aren't nothing to us. And if you think it's okay to throw your life away for people who you don't even know-- well..." He swallowed. "Think of your family. Yeah, it's selfish of us. But..."

"Leo..." Raph looked away, his cheeks slightly red. "You sap. Don't--"

"The person you... handled. He wasn't the one you are truly after, is he? He was just a peon. It's Slim you want... after all, you need to cut off a head to kill a snake... not the tail."

He felt something of pang as Raphael suddenly froze and swore.

"It's not over yet..." moaned his brother.

This was just like his practical brother. So obsessed with stopping the supplier that he didn't even think of the source of the cash. "I'm going with you. No matter what." He tightened his grip. "And you are wrong-- it is over now. The part where you do everything yourself, that is."

Raph gaped at him.

Leo pulled his hand away. "Again I ask, Raphael. For our sake, please place your life above those in the world above us. You deserve to live..." He shut his eyes, fighting off the sudden feeling of strong emotion. "And we deserve to have you..."

"Leo..."

"We've _waited_."

The other turtle turned away suddenly, and it was a long time before he spoke. When he did, his voice was soft... and even more hoarse then it had been since his surprising return. "I will."

Nodding to himself, Leo believed him.


	13. A Watched Pot Never Boils

Everyone, give Pi a hand. This wouldn't have gotten posted without her beta-work, sound-boarding, and support!

* * *

**A Watched Pot Never Boils**

Mikey hummed 'Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious' to himself as he tossed in another imprecise handful of carrots and onions to his boiling concoction-- a real cook had no need to measure!-- and gave Raphael a quick look over his shoulder.

His silent brother was right were Mikey left him, sitting at the kitchen table with today's Sports Pages in front of him. Raph didn't really seem to be reading it so much as skimming it with a distracted look.

Mikey was pleased to see Raph's hand occasionally snapping out like a striking snake and-- almost giving the impression he was sneaking it-- taking another large handful of the trail mix that Mikey and April had concocted the other day.

Amusing was the fact that it was only the banana chips, chocolate chips, and almonds his stoic sibling was taking. Soon the whole bowl would be nothing but raisins and peanuts, noted Mikey.

Figured. Those things were gross! He tried to tell April they weren't needed, but she had insisted, quoting some medical journal stuff about polyphenols and antioxidants.

Mikey was all for having healthy food -sometimes-, but never at the expense of -taste-. And speaking of taste-- he quickly sprinkled in some extra pepper and chopped up garlic into the pot and took a careful sip.

"Ah, much better." he murmured, pleased. This would be an awesome stew, he could already tell. "...You doing okay over there, bro?"

"Hn." Mikey turned to watch his brother flip the page, a faintly disgusted look on his scarred face. "...How long have th' Yankees been suckin' _this_ badly?"

"Ever since they traded their best player for 'a couple of pissants'-- according to Case, anyway." Mikey shrugged. His best friend might love sports, but it really wasn't -his- forte. Just an excuse to hang out, really.

"Used ta be good." muttered Raph, shaking his head slightly and returning his gaze to the paper. "Shit. Wow. Th' Pistons actually won somethin'." He rested his finger over the headline even as he tossed another handful of carefully picked over trail mix into his mouth.

"You follow them?" wondered Mikey, after a quick mental check involving Casey's sports knowledge. "They're... Detroit... right?"

Raph nodded. "Didn' really follow 'em." he admitted. "...but still saw th' papers when I was looking for... other things."

Picturing crooks hanging by their ankles from street-posts and his old Nightwatcher scrapbook-- Damn, he had thrown that thing away in a fit of anger _years _ago-- Mikey nodded back and returned to his dinner, which was threatening to overboil.

Thus the room grew silent once more.

--

_"You gotta help me, Raphi!" pleaded Mikey. "It's dark and scary in that tunnel... and that's my only ball!" he tried to make his eyes go all wide and wobbly, that worked well on his family -sometimes-._

_"'M busy." replied Raph, who was looking over those weird car books he got from Donnie again. "You shoulda thought 'bout that before you threw it in there." he pointed out, his eyes still on his book._

_"It -bounced-!"_

_"I don't care."_

_"Raaaaaaaaphiiiiii..." Mikey whined. "It'll only be a minute!"_

_"Fine." huffed his brother, standing quickly even as he carefully put his borrowed reading material away. "If'll shut ya up, I'll do it."_

_Mikey resisted the urge to stick his tongue out in retort-- not only would his moody brother likely change his mind, but also because he knew better. There was a reason he came to this particular brother for help._

_Raphi always said stuff like that-- and it sounded soooo rude-- but at the same time, he -always- helped. It didn't matter what Mikey needed help with, if he asked Raph about it, his brother would eventually get off his shell and do something about it._

_Course, he didn't have to be quite such a jerk about it._

_A few minutes later, both brothers were at the entrance of the tunnel where Mikey last saw his beloved bright red ball._

_"Y' sure this is it?" asked Raph, peering into the darkness. "I don' wanna check every tunnel in this area. Free Time's almost over."_

_"It's it, it's it!" insisted his little brother, bouncing up and down slightly. "Right in there!"_

_Suddenly Raph paused, and in the dim light Mikey saw his older brother pale ever so slightly. "...Waitasec."_

_Curious, Mikey leaned forward, his blue eyes trying to catch what the other turtle was looking at. Finally, he saw it. "OH COOL. I never seen so many in my life!"_

_The whole tunnel was crawling with at least one hundred different types of bugs, by Mikey's calculation. Big ones, little ones, long ones, and short ones. "I shoulda brought my jar." he added, feeling remorseful._

_"Bugs..."_

_Shoot._

_Mikey knew-- no matter how his brother tried to phrase it-- that Raphi was scared of bugs. Everyone did. Which meant--_

_Thinking fast, Mikey prepared to taunt his brother, maybe elbow him into the tunnel or something, whatever would annoy his brother and tap his pride. He just -had- to get his toy back. Not only did he want to play with it some more, but Sensei always got mad when they lost or broke one of their few possessions-- and this ball was new._

_But before he could act, his brother took a deep breath and stepped into the dark gaping maw of the tunnel. Mikey watched him, gaping like a fish out of water._

_There were a million things in the world Mikey was scared of. The dark, Freddy Krueger, Jason, sharks-- you name it. He watched a lot of movies, and knew from them that there was all sorts of nasties hiding in the dark, just waiting for little boys like him._

_So he stayed the heck away._

_-But Raphi entered the tunnel of his own free will. Even though he was scared.-_

_Awed, Mikey waited by the entrance, a single minute dragging by as slowly as one of the snails he just saw in that hallway before him. He could hear his brother shuffling about, sometimes saying one of those words that Sensei told them to -never- use._

_Finally, Raph emerged, the bright ball in his hand standing out in the twilight dimness like a torch. "Here." His older brother roughly pushed the ball into Mikey's waiting hands, and for a second Mikey could almost swear the other turtle was -shaking-._

_"How..." his mouth worked, ball now completely forgotten."How'd you do it?"_

_"Huh?" Raph blinked at him, and then seemed to get it. He flushed slightly, rubbing the top of his head and looking away. "...Ya just gotta put one foot in front of ya and -go- is all." he finally muttered._

_--_

Mikey never forgot those words. Or that day.

After all, it was very rare in life that once got to meet an honest to god _hero_.

He had known it then, the second his obviously frightened big brother gave him back the ball that had seemed so important at that time for some reason. And Mikey had been impressed.

It was easy to be fearless with you were like Sensei, Leo, or heck... maybe even Don. But to be fearless when you were really scared?

Now _that_ was amazing.

"...Think some rosemary should be added, bro?" He glanced backwards again, and was surprised to find Raph watching him, a soft look in those normally skittish eyes.

Raph shrugged. "How'm I supposed ta know?"

"I'll add it then." Mikey sprinkled some in. "K. Now we just have to wait."

"...Wait?"

Mikey nodded. "Yeah, if ya try n' rush it, it'll turn out all wrong."

His brother blinked at him slowly, then looked back down at his paper. "...S' good then?" his voice was so soft Mikey could barely hear it.

For a long moment, Mikey wondered why Raph was being so emotional about _cooking_. Then, in a flash of startling light, he got it. "Yeah..." he swallowed. "It's good. You..." He really wished his brother would look back up at him, he felt almost like he was talking to the table. "...It's better when you finally get to taste it." he offered, ten years of an empty room, empty chair, empty Lair parading past the back of his eyes.

Raphael let out his breath in a long ragged exhalation, suddenly drawing himself up, head buried in his hands.

Concerned, Mikey took a step forward. "...Is...?"

He didn't know what to say.

"...Not so little anymore, are ya?" interrupted Raph, hoarsely.

Silence engulfed them once more-- a period of mourning for all those lost years.

Then Mikey found himself smiling. Raph was here _now. _He thumped his plastron, feeling slightly guilty when it caused Raph to snap up like a jack-in-the-box. "Musta been all those Wheaties I ate!"

Raph blinked at him, then slowly, the corner of his mouth turned up. "...Ya never ate Wheaties, Mikey. Leo did. You ate Cocoa Puffs. All th' time." He paused. "An' my cereal. Then ya took th' prizes."

Unphased, Mikey flung out his arms. "Genetically modified corn then?" He flexed his right arm, grinning widely.

There was a strange sound. Relaxing his pose, Mikey looked around the room, trying to figure out the source of it. Raph stared back, looking equally as surprised.

Then Mikey figured out what it was and the grin snapped back onto his face as quickly as a lego.

It had been a snort of _laughter_.


End file.
